Some People Have Real Problems
by BlueEyedFrog
Summary: A first writing exercise based on the format of Skins. Naomi is an aspiring journalist. Emily a local singer-songwriter. Story in Naomi's POV, each chapter will explore 1 of the main protagonists on the path to Naomily. Features characters from Gen 1 & 2
1. Everyone

**Disclaimer: I don't own Skins, all characters remain the property of the creators. However I'm grateful for being able to borrow them for a short dalliance.  
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><p>The music pounded in my ears through the headphones as I pushed at the pedals in rhythm. I had long since learned to ride without needing to rely too much on the handlebars. So one hand rested on each of my thighs unless I needed to steer around a corner or I passed someone.<p>

Sure I have taken a few falls this way, but I was getting used to the tumbles and they hurt less and less every time. I had decided to ride because it was in the spirit of the event where I was headed. This whole day festival was planned around eco-minded precepts like my mantra-toting hippy of a mother was always spouting. She had pestered me until I had agreed to volunteer and I had been unable to come up with sufficient reason not to help out. The truth of it was: I had nothing better to do.

As a result of my total and pathetic lack of any other engagements that day I found myself tying my bike to the racks provided about an hour early for my volunteer shift. _Typical, _I thought to myself and I flicked the barrel of the lock to a random set of numbers and paced over to the registration desk. I wasn't looking forward to this.

"Hi, I'm here for my volunteer shift" I said to the plump woman in mismatched denim behind the trestle table.

"Name please?" she sung out without even looking up. Despite her automaton efficiency – she seemed to be processing the fastest moving queue, which is what had led me to pick her line – her voice was warm and welcoming.

"I'm Gina Campbell's daughter" I supplied, hoping that would suffice.

"Oh, Gina's daughter! Lovely, she mentioned you were coming." She ticked a line on her ledger which I made out read my mother's name with '+ 1 helper' next to it. "I'm going to need your first name though love. For the badge, you see."

She held up a makeshift plastic badge with the festival logo emblazoned on the top and a space below that for a name sticker_. Perfect!_ This was exactly what I was afraid of. All that was missing to complete this cliché was the four little words in between 'Hi, My name is...'

But the worst part was yet to come. I rubbed my foot against my ankle and looked down, bracing myself. "Naomi" I muttered.

"Right then! Na-o-mi... Campbell!" she chirped as she wrote each word on a free sticker and pasted it onto the front of a badge, handing it to me when she was done. I should have suspected the old bird would not make the connection, but I heard a few stifled giggles amongst the younger volunteers still waiting to register. And now I was going to spend the whole day addressing people with this sodding badge... thanks mum, thanks a lot!

She explained the layout of the grounds to me and pointed me in the direction of my mum's stand and I shuffled off towards it. I was busy fixing my badge to my collar when I collided with something hard.

I looked up to find it was actually a small person. I was about to apologise but before I could get a word in edgewise she started blurting out a flustered torrent of words: "Fuck, I'm so sorry! I should learn to look where I'm going. Did I hurt you? Sorry again. I was just telling my bass player to keep up because we're running late for our soundcheck but the idiot doesn't seem to think he needs one. Are you sure I didn't hurt you?"

I knitted my brow in confusion at her and managed to convey that I was fine but before I could explain I was equally to blame she was off again, her bass player scoffing in her wake as he walked past me.

_Right, I've met the white rabbit of this place; now to go find the mad hatter. _

I walked the rest of the way to mum's stall with my eyes trained steadily in front of me.

When I got there, mum flung her arms around me and tossed me a green T-shirt with white lettering. I unfolded it to read what she expected me to wear. The front featured a picture of the globe with the words 'Every day is Earth Day' above it and the website mum had painstakingly mounted together with her contacts was listed at the bottom. The back of the T-shirt just had 'EcoFuture Fest 2011' in smaller lettering between the shoulders.

Reading my expression she smiled "You're early hun. You don't have to change into it now. Why are you already wearing your badge anyway?"

My eyes moved to my badge and back to mum's amused face. I hadn't thought... I'd gone into auto-pilot after signing up as I usually do to deal with my mother's projects. I reflected that this one was probably one of her more valid causes though and she deserved the support regardless. But that was no reason to wear this stupid badge a second longer than I had to if I wasn't on for another 45 minutes. I carefully removed the badge from my collar and placed it on top of the green shirt on a chair at the back of mum's set up so they would be there when I returned to perform my daughterly duties. I kissed my mum on the cheek and threw my bag in the corner as well, pushing my wallet into the back pocket of my jeans. That done, I wandered off to explore the grounds.

Among the fear-mongering slogans and a lot of rather loud and scary activists, I also found a few stalls that piqued my interest. One was a marine ecology themed stand with leaflets on the diverse ecosystems of the ocean, the dangers of overfishing, anti-whaling badges and stickers everywhere. The guy who manned this stall was very friendly and knowledgeable and he handed me a card with the details of his website for me to look up in my own time. I had always hated those people who hounded you to join their cause and pushed and pushed until you entered in to a mailing list, or committed to a donation or signed a petition based on nothing but their 3 minute pitch.

Another stall that interested me, for obvious reasons, was run by a group of young journos freelancing abroad and reporting on the political climate of various regions of the world after several months of full immersion. Again I took note of their website after a chat with a young woman who had explained she had just come back from a 2 year stint in South America and loved every minute of it. When I hesitantly told her that I was also a budding journo but had only written for the local paper so far, she let out a genuine squeal and shook my hand vigorously. She kept my hand in hers as she hollered to her peers "Hey guys! A fellow scribbler!" then she returned to me "I'm Michelle anyway." She pointed at her badge with a shrug "What was your name?"

"Naomi" I answered starting to feel more at ease in this place than I'd expected. _Thanks mum!_ I thought again.

"Well Naomi, those of us who are in Bristol for now catch up every second Wednesday at 'The Sleepout' down on Colston Street near the Uni. Do you know it? You could join us if you like. We normally trade writers' block issues and debate our next destinations but mostly it's a bit of fun and obviously it's a bit of a cyclical crowd so you'll fit right in."

"Uhm... sure." I muttered, a little taken aback by such a quick invitation but she seemed to mean it and I was longing to hear more about this program.

"Great! Well the next one is this Wednesday at 6pm. See you there?"

"Right, 6, ok see you there." I said, retreating as I saw yet more youths approaching the busy stall with inquisitive looks and Michelle sidestepped to address the newcomers.

I returned to mum's stall with ten minutes to spare; plenty of time to throw on my t-shirt and affix the badge onto it. I told mum about the stuff I'd seen and I saw her poorly disguise an I-told-you-so smirk behind the pamphlet I had given her to read. I had to admit, this event was better organised and had the potential to be more wide reaching than a lot of the protests she had taken me to as I was growing up. Perhaps she was learning to focus her passion as an indirect result of my constant badgering to be "a bit more normal" in my early teens. After all, she had eventually gotten rid of the communal living concept when our third TV went missing. I mean she still refused to eat meat or own a car, but she let me make my own decision to buy one and she had even come around to the idea of riding in it if we were going the same place. Even this t-shirt was a lot more presentable than that hideous oversized one with the picture of a pig on the front of it she had screen printed for us to wear to a singing protest at an abattoir.

I spent the following 3 hours handing out our own leaflets, advocating diminished energy consumption and explaining carbon footprint offsetting to people with all the knowledge my mother's dinner rants had given me and attempting to match the enthusiasm of the better stall runners I had met earlier. I met a few more interesting people, mostly older women about my mother's age, who were genuinely keen to find out how to make a realistic difference on the ground level. Some of the men were more on the utterly tapped side of 'interesting'. This one in particular got into a lengthy debate with mum about conspiracy theories and kept ranting about "The Man."

The younger crowd were the most diverse and eclectic mix. The majority of them were forward minded young professionals with an interest in conservation. Some were farming kids who had tagged along with their parents to get the latest on new-age agriculture methods. Towards the end of my shift this one guy, about my age, sauntered up with a toothy grin and his eyes glued to my badge. I recognised him as one of the guys who had been registering in the queue next to mine and had guffawed at the mention of my name even then.

"Bloody hell, I heard a rumour there was a celebrity slummin' it with the likes of us."

I squared him in the eye and gave him my best Campbell death stare "Think you could come up with one I _haven't_ heard before?"

"Fwhoa! Easy tiger... I see you're livin' up to your namesake's temper. Are you going to throw a phone at me now?"

"A swing and a miss! Now, are you actually interested in any of this..." I waved a leaflet at him for emphasis "... or are you just here to piss me off?"

His grin widened into a booming laugh and he threw his head backwards letting his whole chest shake unashamedly. When he recovered he smoothed his polo shirt down over his chest with the flat of his hands. "I like you Naomikins! You'll keep. I'm Cook anyway." He bowed "At your service."

And with that he grabbed the leaflet out of my hand and marched away proudly.

I was shaking my head in disbelief when I spotted my flatmate Thomas and his girlfriend coming from the other direction.

"Hello Naomi, very nice to see you. How are you today?" he said softly.

"Not bad Thommo, almost done actually. What have you two been up to?"

"Oh, we have come from Panda's shift at the reflexology and remedial massage tent" He struggled over the last words, his Congolese accent threatening to undo him but he beamed at us anyway. "We stopped at the holistic food stand for a late lunch on the way; they have delicious organic donuts you know?"

"Yeah, they were proper delish!" grinned Pandora. "Have you eaten yet Naoms?"

It was only then that I realised just how hungry I was. This saving the world one leaflet at a time really worked up an appetite.

Thankfully just at that moment Kieran snuck up behind mum, who was deep in another rousing debate with a visitor, and grabbed her around the waist.

"Reporting for duty, Chief."

Mum jumped and tried to wriggle out of his grasp. "Kieran you're tickling me!"

He brushed his beard against her neck again and blew a raspberry there.

"Kieran stop it. You're here to work, remember?" the blush on her cheeks betrayed her amusement in her attempt to sound authoritative. I think none of us were convinced she truly believed Kieran would be the most focussed assistant even when she had asked him to help out.

"Oh come on now!" he quipped "It's time for these youngsters to learn that we're not crusty, asexual old farts. Besides, they're in their early twenties Gina: I'm sure they've gotten up to more mischief than this themselves." He winked at me "Agent Naomi, you're dismissed!"

As I walked away with Thomas and Pandora I vaguely heard my mum castigating him along the lines of "... that's my daughter you're talking bout..." with some swearing thrown in there for good measure. I didn't bother changing my shirt again but I did remove my badge and handed it to Thomas to put in his bag.

The three of us made our way to the food area which is right near the holistic health section where Panda had been giving out massages and handing out vouchers to yogalates classes. I decided to opt for a slightly healthier lunch than donuts. There was a van in the corner of the food area selling raw food platters and smoothies. We line up for a while, my stomach grumbling as we wait. The line shuffled forward a few steps after about ten minutes. At this rate I wasn't going to get fed for another half hour. The person who had just been served at the front of the line started walking back up the queue, food smell wafting across to everyone waiting and turning heads as she went. I looked up and recognised the culprit.

"Effy Stonem you bloody legend!" I beamed at her as she handed me a recycled cardboard plate with half a home-made raw pizza on it and a plastic cup full of brown liquid.

She smirked quietly and we pulled out of the queue to find ourselves a table away from the crowds.

When we had found four chairs and brought them together in a circle for lack of a table, Eff and I tucked into our food. She had explained her food and beverage choices for me and I marvelled that she somehow always knew better than even me what I wanted and always seemed to come through for me in a jam. I took a few sips of my drink, which turned out to be the perfect coffee pick-me-up with cacao, malt, banana and almond milk. Effy sprung into action.

She grabbed my cup out of my hands "I forgot to add the magic ingredient." Pulling a hipflask out of her large boots, she poured a generous quantity into both our cups to replace the liquid we had just drunk. She swirled the straw around and handed mine back to me.

We had worked up a nice light buzz by the time the sun started to set on the park. Panda had eagerly finished the rest of my pizza whilst regaling us with stories about the people she had massaged that afternoon. Thomas smiled brightly as he looked on, letting her take the fore and tell us about the woman, yes woman, with "hairy legs and a bonza beer gut" and a man who had asked her if she did 'happy endings.' She told us she didn't know what that meant so she had simply said they didn't but he should ask for her boss next time because he was a lot more experienced than her and probably knew a few more techniques. The three of us burst out laughing at that and Panda asked sheepishly to be let in on the joke.

"It's OK Panda, I'm glad you didn't agree to do it for him." said her boyfriend before lowering his voice and whispering further into her ear.

Pandora shrieked "Fuckin' heck! You mean making monkey?"

Effy jumped in to assist her charmingly innocent friend "Well technically not quite making monkey, it doesn't involve you taking your clothes off but..."

"Well bloomin' hell if he thinks I'll ever do that to anyone but Thommo!"

We all cheered and Panda slunk back into her chair, leaning into Thommo's outstretched arm.

In all the commotion from our table we had not noticed the recent silence from the stage area until it was broken by a few lonely guitar chords. A voice started drifting over it in the dusk. The wind was blowing the music towards us and rustling through the trees on the way, making it difficult to make out any words but the melody was clear as a bell. I stopped laughing and looked over to Effy who had also gone quiet. The singer's voice was amazingly sultry despite sounding quite young. It had a familiar husky quality to it as she progressed through the opening bars of what sounded like a cover of Etta James' 'At Last.' Effy stood up and grabbed my hand. She started leading me in the direction of the stage, motioning to the other two to follow.

"This is Freddie's band." she threw back at me as if this were some kind of explanation. She continued to drag me all the way into the front section of the audience which had already filled out with a pretty keen crowd. Thomas and Pandora caught up soon after and joined us as the song swelled into the bridge and the crowd was already swaying. I started to put the pieces together. _Right, _Eff had told me her new boyfriend Freddie was a bass player. I hadn't met him yet but as I looked up I recognised the scruffy pretty boy who had scoffed past me earlier that day. He was exactly Effy's type: tall, dark and handsome with a kind of Euro-charm and a hint of 'I have issues and I like to wallow in them.'

Suddenly I realised, if Freddie was the bass player then the shy, bumbling pocket person I had slammed into would be... I looked across from Freddie and my eyes locked onto the girl in question. She was standing, feet apart and guitar in hand. Her eyes were closed and her head lolled back slightly as she sung into the microphone with the utmost ease. She looked so comfortable up there it was as if closing her eyes was enough to transport her into her living room and make us all disappear. No stage jitters, her voice was unwavering. The guitar seemed so large on her but her fingers had no trouble shifting up and down the frets to the skilfully arranged string part of the original. The most striking thing about her otherwise mousy appearance was the bright red hair. It was the kind of deep colour that most people would only be brave enough to dare as highlights. Her shoulder length hair was pulled up in a low pompadour which suited the band's vibe, although I suspected she would wear it like that for herself whether it fit or not.

She finished the song, gently shaking her head to the final lyrics and she opened her eyes slowly as if emerging from a trance. "For you are mine... at last." The last guitar chords rang out and she was smiling from ear to ear.

Suddenly the stage lights brightened and came down on a third member of the band who had been quiet in the shadows for the first song. The drummer hit his sticks together four times to mark the beat and the three launched into a faster paced original song. This drummer was yet another idiosyncratic individual. He looked on all accounts fairly introverted. Hidden behind his drum kit, his head was covered with a black beanie and he was wearing a muted hoodie. The singer on the other hand had sprung to life and was bouncing around the stage in her retro-looking summer dress and ballet pumps. Freddie just stuck to his corner, driving the song quite successfully despite his intent not to demonstrate any showmanship.

The rest of the set was a good mix of indie pop and folk tunes, most of them original. The singer's voice worked amazingly well on both the fast and the slow songs. The boys worked well to fill out the sound, thick and fast on the pop numbers and understated when the arrangement needed it.

For a few songs the singer even called a saxophone player up on stage, much to the delight of Panda.

When they wrapped up, the singer set down her guitar and grabbed the mic to talk into it. As her voice shifted back into spoken words, her volume faltered slightly. It was barely noticeable but it was there, the slight nervous tremor I had heard when she was ranting about the soundcheck was back and her confident persona was gone.

"Thanks guys! We're _The Odd Sorts_. Thank you so much to EcoFuture for having us."

She put the microphone back on the stand and picked up her guitar to exit the stage. The crowd roared and Freddie stepped in to take the mic.

"Uhm yeah... so thanks guys!" he faltered before finding his groove "You've been a great audience! Unfortunately we don't have time for an encore because you've got the next band coming up soon. But if you liked what you just heard, come down to 'The Tunnels' next Saturday night at 9."

He unplugged his guitar and left the stage followed by the drummer and sax player.

A mess of stagehands rushed on to change the setup for the next act and our group erupted into a lively commentary of what we had just seen.

"Whizzer! That was fantastic!" exclaimed Pandora

Thomas was more subdued in his usual propriety but also positive "Yes, that singer was very good wasn't she?"

"Yeah..." I agreed. "Freddie is really good Eff!"

True to form, my best friend just nodded and smiled knowingly.

We made our way back to my mother's stall to pick up my bag and the rest of our stuff. Kieran seemed to have gotten the hang of helping out and had quite a little crowd of people amassed listening to him. Watching him, I could imagine him being a teacher in Ireland before he became my boss.

He had once told me he hated teaching, having to deal with a majority of unenthused kids who were more interested getting into each other's pants than into one of his history books. But he had gone on to explain that it was "dealing with the little twats and the mild jangly things between their ears" that had made him the "cynical wanker" he needed to be to become editor of the opinions section in the 'Evening Post.'

I pecked mum on the cheek and wished her a good night before heading to retrieve my bike with Panda and Thomas. Effy told us she would stay behind because she had promised to catch up with Freddie after the band had cleared their instruments into his van. Because it was dark, Thomas offered me a ride back with them in Pandora's station wagon she used to drive her massage table around. We loaded the bike into the back and drove back home, the music from before still swilling around in my head. The alcohol was wearing off and through the haze the words were on a loop:

_At last, my love has come along  
>My lonely days are over<br>And life is like a song  
><em>

_Oh, yeah, at last, the skies above are blue  
>My heart was wrapped up in clover<br>The night I looked at you  
><em>

_I found a dream that I could speak to  
>A dream that I can call my own<br>I found a thrill to rest my cheek to  
>A thrill that I have never known<br>_

_Oh, yeah when you smile, you smile  
>Oh, and then the spell was cast<br>And here we are in heaven  
>For you are mine at last<em>

When we got home and inside, I asked the others if they were hungry. I silently hoped they would decline because I was not hungry for food nor company.

"No thanks Naoms." Said Pandora, dragging an obliging Thomas up the stairs to his own bedroom. "Me and Thommo are off to write a happy ending!"

I followed up the stairs after turning the lights out and collapsed into bed without bothering to remove my green shirt. I had always used the dreadful shirts my mother created for demonstrations to sleep in; despite this shirt being marginally more socially acceptable, tonight would be no different to the tradition. As I drifted off, the last thing I saw was the backlit deep red hue from a streetlight behind my eyelids.


	2. Naomi

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Skins, nor will I sadly ever. However spurred on by a few delightful comments from readers, I'll chance another trifle.**

**This one is more backstory and characterisation. Also setting up the framework for things to come.**

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><p>Monday morning came in through the window before my alarm went off.<p>

I stirred slowly and groaned as my eyes fluttered open, coming to rest on the clock on my nightstand. Seven twenty four on the dial.

Pushing the covers off my tired limbs, I reached vertical and flicked off the alarm. My hands reached automatically for the hem of my shirt. I smiled to myself when I saw the words 'Every day is Earth Day' upside down emblazoned across my chest. Hearing the clattering of pots and pans downstairs, I quickly grabbed my towel and headed to the shower.

As I stood under the warm jet, I let my mind drift in and out between memories of the day before and thoughts of the mundane work day ahead.

When I got downstairs I found Thomas standing in the middle of the kitchen with a whisk in one hand and an empty eggshell in the other.

"Ah good, I am glad to see you are awake Naomi. I am making 'pain perdu,' would you like some?"

"Love some, I'm starving!" I chirped and set about setting the table for three.

Pandora came padding down the stairs a moment later and sidled up to Thomas with a very large yawn. He kissed the top of her head and wrapped the arm he wasn't using to flip the French toast with a spatula around her waist.

The three of us tucked in to a sizeable breakfast which made up in quantity for the lack of a dinner the night before. After breakfast Thomas told Pandora who had the morning off that she could stay at our place.

"Fantastic! Thanks Thommo. I could do with a shower and a nap before my yoga class this afternoon." She bounced back up the stairs gleefully, leaving Thomas and I to gather his equipment and load it into my car.

I gave Thomas a lift to Brandon Hill Nature Park and dropped him off in the parking lot of the hospital where the other Landscape Gardeners were meeting to head to the day's work site.

"Thank you Naomi. You have a good day now. Do not let Kieran make you stay behind, tell him he is not paying you enough for that."

I smiled at him and slipped the car into reverse. "Yeah I should explain to him again that 'family rates' doesn't mean you can take advantage of your employees. I'll meet you back here at five thirty, ok?"

My friend nodded as I pulled out of the parking spot and drove off in the direction of the paper.

The first half of the day could not have gone any slower. The first two hours were spent reading through letters to the editor in search of salient publishable ones. The tragic paucity of opinion pieces that week left our allocated pages with precious little material to fill them. Whenever this happened, Kieran had his younger staff writers like me write up short columns about the goings on of the week around Bristol. Kieran was kind enough to ask me to cover Eco-Future and gave me a 3pm deadline for my 400 words.

I sent him my first draft by email at 1pm and went down the street to grab some lunch while he read through it. When I got back 40 minutes later there was an email waiting for me in my inbox.

_From: Kieran O'Hanlon [mailto:__.com__]  
>Sent: Monday, 10 October 2011 1:29 PM<br>To: Naomi Campbell  
>Subject: Re. Eco-Future Column Draft 1<em>

_Blondie,_

_Perhaps I did not make my instructions clear when I assigned you this one day festival.  
>No offense but I will need a little bit more on the stalls and the greenie shit and a little less on 'The Odd Sorts', fantastic as they do seem.<em>

_You have an hour for a re-write. Think you can manage?_

_Best Regards,_

_The grumpy old bastard from the office down the hall._

I finished reading his email and unfurrowed my brow, fishing my draft out of the recent documents to read through it again. _Shit, _he was right!

I fired off a quick reply assuring him I'd get it done and set about fixing my blunder.

Fifty minutes later, just as I proof read my last sentence and saved the file before attaching it to a second email, my phone rang.

"Naomi" came Lara's friendly voice through the receiver "It's Effy, she promised she'd be quick."

"Sure, thanks. You can put her through."

Effy's usual monosyllables I had become used to interpreting were replaced by a higher pitched outburst as her words came barrelling down the line.

"Naoms! Are you sitting down?"

"I'm at work Eff, at my desk, it's ok you can talk."

"The rep..." she said "from the Arnolfini..." she paused for a second, getting her thoughts in order. "At Eco-Future yesterday, after you left and I went to help Freddie load the van. She was talking to Emily the singer about their set. It turns out she knows their drummer, Sid. Anyway, she recognised me from the poetry slam in the creative tent that afternoon and she asked if I had any written work because she's organising a reading with all young local artists and she needed to fill a spot. So I sent her some stuff this morning and she just called back. I'm in Naoms, I'm in!"

It took me a few moments to make sense of her tirade "Wow! Eff, that's great! When is it?"

The direct and to the point Effy I had known since college was back in a flash "Oh... right... this Thursday 8pm. See you then." and she hung up the phone.

I hung up my end and hit send on the email I had waiting, satisfied with my proof-read. I don't think I could have focussed that much longer on the re-write anyway. The only coherent thought running through my mind in that moment was the incidental information contained in Effy's news: _Her name is Emily._

I busied myself clearing my desk and making a little space on my pin-board for the infamous badge and before long I got a new email from Kieran.

_From: Kieran O'Hanlon [mailto:__.com__]  
>Sent: Monday, 10 October 2011 3:14 PM<br>To: Naomi Campbell  
>Subject: Re. Eco-Future Column Draft 2<em>

_Much better! You're a great writer when you're on topic.  
>Now get your arse down to print and help the boys put this together and make sure they don't fuck it up.<em>

_By the way, your mother called me earlier and confirmed dinner at her place tonight at seven.  
>Tell that lovely chocolate Frenchman and his girlfriend they're invited too.<em>

_Best Regards,_

_Slightly less grumpy old bastard from the office down the hall._

The last two hours of the day were spent helping the guys down at print with the layout and typesetting. This was usually the most tedious part of the day. Today though, I felt like I could deal with this like I did any of my mum's dinner table lectures. It was something that needed to be sat through. I put myself to the task on auto-pilot. After Kieran's crash course when I had started working for him and the graphic design elective mum had wisely suggested I take to diversify my skills at uni, I could practically do this stuff in my sleep. The cognitive side of my brain was way too occupied with other matters anyway.

Once 5pm finally rolled around I was in my car in a flash and off to pick up Thomas from the Nature Park. "Hey Thommo, you hungry?"

Thomas climbed into the passenger seat with a large bag of gardening tools on his lap. "Yes, very much. We spent most of today digging the holes for new London plane trees. They are very big, and I am very tired."

"Well I promise it won't be a late one then, but you're invited over to mum's for one of her extended family vegan feasts. I have to warn you though; it's likely to be tofu scramble or something vomitous like that."

"I do not mind. Your mother is very nice. And besides, it might not taste as bad as some of your cooking." He replied, nudging me softly with his elbow as we took off.

Instead of rising to the bait, I figured whatever my mother's cuisine had in store for us tonight would serve aptly as his punishment and sheathed my tongue. Besides, I couldn't really fight him on that one. Much as I like to eat, the only thing I can really make with any degree of success is eggs.

In my years spent at university I survived mostly on cafeteria food and two minute noodles, like many students worthy of the name. And mum was not exactly the Stepford wife homemaker type, likely to set time aside to teach her daughter to cook in between rallies for same sex marriage and protests against live animal export. She had been too busy raising me as a single parent after my dad had fucked off. Taking on the duties of two parents on top of her neurotic activist schedule, I'd say she didn't do too badly.

We got to mum's place twenty minutes late because we had to swing by Pandora's to pick up the right barrettes to match her carefully chosen scrunchie for the occasion. It seems when we had come home and announced that she was invited to my mother's for a vegan dinner, she had decided this was a momentous occasion which warranted a concerted effort in attire. I suppose, with Thomas having become like a brother to me after 3 years of cohabitation and his family being back in Congo, Gina was the closest thing to an adopted mother figure he had in Bristol. Somewhere in Pandora's mind, this meant she had to impress.

As usual, we had obliged her kooky naiveté because that was what made her so charming. Although I did stop to wonder if anyone but Thomas could handle her in such large quantities as he did, almost 24/7, the boy truly had the patience of a saint.

When we walked across the threshold, we were greeted by a flustered Kieran and the smell of something burning. He opened the door for us and ushered us inside before bolting back to the kitchen. "Make yourselves at home kids!" he threw over his shoulder "won't be a minute."

I could hear mum fussing about and telling Kieran he wasn't helping and eventually he re-emerged into the living room with a large bottle of whisky and four glasses. "Too many cooks, eh?" he sighed, pouring a generous serving into each glass and tossing back his first without waiting. He filled that one up again and lifted it to us for a toast. We mirrored his actions and relaxed into casual chatter until mum came in from the kitchen in a hemp apron. "Dinner is served" she chimed.

Thomas leaped up and gave her the pot of crocuses we had stopped for at his boss' nursery.

"Oh bless you Thomas, you're so thoughtful. And you know how I feel about cut flowers don't you dear."

"Yes mum we all know." I interrupted, giving her a kiss "but we should go eat now before dinner is both burnt _and _cold."

Dinner was a nice distraction. It turned out mum had made nut loaf and, once the burnt edges had been trimmed off, it didn't taste too bad. Thomas and Pandora were their usual affectionate selves. Mum and Kieran had long since relaxed into a comfortable and well choreographed routine, when there wasn't an impending nut-loaf-emergency at hand that is.

"So Naomi Darling, what did you think of yesterday?" asked mum after sufficient banter about work and the weather.

"It was great!" I caught myself as the words came out of my mouth and she grinned "It was though. I'm proud of you mum."

"Effy told me today you went to watch her boyfriend's band after you left us. They must have been good; you seemed quite chirpy when you got back."

Kieran jumped in before I could diffuse that one "Oh yeah, she was right keen on them. Bit too keen even maybe. Asked her to give me a column on Eco-Future and she goes and hands me a puff piece for 'The Odd Sorts' doesn't she! I think missy 'ere might have a thing for someone in the band."

"Of course I don't! Freddie's with Effy and their drummer is taken too. Besides they're not my type." _And can we please change the topic of conversation now..._ I thought to myself.

"'S'all right love, I was just being a twat. Shame I'm not running the Arts and Entertainment section though, was a good band review. Anyway, who's up for dessert? I've slaved long minutes over the biscuit shelf at Tesco's. " He reached for the cupboard next to the fridge "Naomi, Garibaldis."

He tossed me the packet. "Now Pandora, something tells me you're more of a chocolate fiend, am I right?" a packet of Oreos landed on the table between her and Thomas.

Panda's eyes widened with glee and she tore into the packet, pushing two full biscuits into her mouth at once.

When we had finished eating, Pandora – still keen to make a good impression – offered to help mum with the dishes while Kieran and I went outside for a smoke. Thomas joined us and sat on the stoop, pulling weeds and dead leaves from the shrubs absentmindedly. I could hear the sound of Pandora's laughs drifting over to us and a look at my friend's face told me he was glad things were going so smoothly.

"So Naomi, you mentioned Effy has a poetry reading coming up this week?" Kieran queried, pushing out a plume of smoke that I saw backlit against the yellow door in the late evening darkness.

"Yeah Thursday... why is that? Did you want to come?"

"Oh Jesus no! I wouldn't want to intrude. Besides I'm more of a prose man meself. But it just so happens that maybe I had a word with Angie in Arts and Entertainment this evening, while you were at print, and I may have shot her your first draft."

Thomas giggled audibly when he worked out where this conversation was headed.

"So she and I were wondering if you might be able to put together a short article on this 'Poet's society' thingy. Only 1200 words, due Friday by 3 for Saturday's issue, but it's more than our impromptu columns and with the advanced notice I think you might manage to stay on topic this time." I choked back the last puff of smoke and threw my cigarette to the ground, unsure of how to respond.

To be honest I wasn't sure I was up to it. The short columns were a safe refuge from getting too invested in the subject. Economy of words was my bastion of defense against a propensity to fly into opinionated rants like my mother's. Although I seemed to have thrown objectivity to the wind anyway with my first draft of today's column and Kieran didn't seem to think the result was so bad. And I was sure even 'who gives a fuck what the world thinks' Effy wouldn't mind the reading being covered by someone she knew and trusted.

I was called out of my internal deliberations by Thomas' shoe kicking against mine to prompt me to respond. He smiled encouragingly up at me and I returned my gaze to Kieran.

"Ok I'll do it." I resolved out loud.


	3. Cook

**Again, bolstered by the kind words of perfect strangers (and I do mean perfect), I am attempting a third chapter. A bit more Naomi backstory - not that we all don't already know it, but I think the inner workings of that beautiful mind are worth the detour. Then time for some Cook shenanigans in the build-up.**

**Thanks everyone for the reviews. I hope this addition doesn't dissapoint. Oh, and I almost forgot: This one goes out to HyperFitched for her lovely plug in her latest author's note to _The Bend in the Wave _which you should all be reading by now if you haven't already. And if you haven't, then do now, and thank me later.  
><strong>

**Disclaimer: I _still _don't own Skins, but I guess you knew that.**

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><p>Another humdrum day at the office and not enough to do, I found myself sitting idle at my computer by 11.30. This routine which once seemed comfortable to me now seemed to compound my loneliness.<p>

With too much time to think, my mind was known to wander. I couldn't help but dwell on things, things that mattered, things that were important to me. Over-thinking things that upset you is never a good tactic. It's not like I could do much about my loneliness, about these fears of not amounting to anything, about my concerns for Effy, even about the endless stream of fear-mongering on the commercial radio news I was forced to listen to at work. I guess I was more inclined to explore the ins and outs of every issue in an attempt to glean ways of controlling them. It had become my coping mechanism since my dad left.

If it had been as simple as retreating into my own imaginary world once and again, a world where he hadn't left, that might not have been so bad. But I think I skipped the natural denial portion of the grieving process and went straight to bargaining. Back then I had felt compelled to analyse the reasons he had left in an effort to prevent anyone from hurting me like that ever again.

They sometimes say people can get so fearful of experiencing the grief of a loss that they develop depression before the loss is even a reality. In college I had resolved not to let myself get too attached again but that was no solution. I did need people, need someone. No man is an island and all that junk…

My friendship with Effy had gone some way to filling that void. After all, she was missing something too. We seemed to resonate well together, two slightly broken bells.

I was so preoccupied with not letting the past repeat itself, and she seemed to fear the future.

Although for someone so afraid of it, she had an uncanny ability to predict subtle aspects of it.

It's not like she was psychic or anything. I'm not like my mother, who tends to believe that being more in touch with our Mother Earth - or Gaia as she calls her – gets us more in touch with ourselves and brings us some kind of foresight or prescience. I have never bought into any of that tarot card bullshit.

I mean, there has to be such a thing as karma, sure. And I'm not completely opposed to any kind of spirituality. But to actually believe that any given mortal can predict things that are going to happen, well that's just fucking ridiculous if you ask me! That would imply that things are pre-determined before they have even played out. And I for one refuse to believe that my life is already written out there somewhere and beyond my power to make of it what I want. But again, maybe that's just the control freak in me.

Maybe that's why I've always been so afraid of flying. I can't bear the thought of not being able to control my own safety.

So fate-schmate! Call me a pragmatist, a realist; call me what you want but I think the only magic in this world is in the connections we form between us. And that's magic enough.

Anyway, I digress: Effy was more like the sort of person who didn't feel the need to always tell you what she thought. But shit! She thought plenty. And if you knew her well enough you could almost see it all unfolding, just behind her tourmaline eyes. She could read some people better than they could themselves and sometimes she reminded me that, just like in a game of poker, with enough practice you can predict what a person might be hiding simply by keeping your flap shut for a minute and observing.

But as much as Effy understood me, it didn't quite make up for the lack of someone I could truly depend on. Whenever we had gatherings, it was always couples. Existing couples at dinner parties, new couples forming before my eyes under the throbbing lights of a dance floor…

Gorgeous Effy always had some boy (or twelve) hung upon her every carefully chosen word. They were right to do so; Eff's words were a rare and precious commodity. And now that she had Freddie it seemed like her new coupledom would have her attention for a while.

In the first two years of living with Thommo I could get away with him being my plus one. We were that platonic couple, well we were until Panda had come bouncing in.

Even mum had Kieran, and while I couldn't be happier for her having found some modicum of dysfunctional domestic harmony, sometimes being surrounded by happy couples like last night made me want to play five-finger-fillet with the fork I had been using to jab at my nutloaf.

When I was younger I sought out the school-loner image and hid behind it. I didn't need anyone and anybody who dared to get close got a burst of my sardonic wit. In hindsight I think only Effy was strong enough to withstand that crap from me long enough to get through the chink that only she knew was there.

Thankfully, my downward spiraling reverie was interrupted by my handset beeping at me. When I picked up I was surprised to hear not Lara's voice but Kieran's gruff brogue.

"Hey kid, I know you're not doing anything useful now. Why don't you skive off for the rest of the day and get some sunshine?"

"It's ok, I'll head down to print and start on the layout…"

Before I finished he cut me off "Oh, don't be daft Naomi! It's not yet twelve. What are you going to lay out when the other juniors haven't even finished culling their contributions?"

"But I…"

"No you don't need the distraction to feel useful. You've finished what I gave you. Now feck off and have lunch!"

"OK... " I mumbled "Do you want me to pick up anything for you while I'm there?"

"No, don't you worry about me. I've got left-over nutloaf!" he exclaimed and I couldn't detect more than a hint of sarcasm in his comment. "Oh, and Naomi?"

"Yes?"

"Don't tell your boss you're skipping out early. I've heard he's a right bastard."

About ten minutes later I was walking further than I usually did, past my usual lunch spot to the fresh produce organic markets down by the banks. The place was an old disaffected railway station which some council bigwig had decided was no longer on the path to anywhere. They had long since infilled the tracks with concrete but done precious little else to convert the space.

Instead, under the tall steel vaulted canopy with unmaintained ornate steel lattice, tens of trestle stalls were set up in an almost - although not quite - coherent layout. The smell of earth, herbs and misshapen vegetables almost inhabited the space as if it had permeated the structure. Bare lamps hung low between the trusses reflecting the mess below. The colours screamed almost as loud as the hawkers and I relished the fact that I could barely hear my own thoughts in all the cacophony.

There were loosely allocated specific areas for flowers, fruit and vegetables. The butchers, fishmongers and dairy stands ran the perimeter so that they could pull up their refrigerated vans under the awnings. Somewhere at the rear, new age merchants had set up amongst the clothing and jewellery vendors. I found my way through the food section to the old repair workshops where a few more permanent cafes had sprung up in old dining carriages. This allowed you to buy your fresh-made sandwich or a bowl of salad and sit at one of their booths to eat it.

I ordered the simplest wrap they had, which admittedly was still free range chicken, something rather tasty that the counter waif informed me was called chermoula, fancy salsa and rocket. From my seat in the carriage, I messaged Effy to let her know I had the rest of the day off and she replied almost immediately.

'_Glad U messaged. Really bored,  
>Freddie's off on a shoot. Where R U?'<em>

I fired off a reply in full text. _Fine! call me anal-girl, I'm a writer, so sue me_.

'_I'm at the Markets off Cumberland  
>Road. Can hang around if you want.<br>How close are you?  
>N'<em>

Another ten minutes later, as I was finishing my lunch came her answer:

'_Great! I'll be 20 mins. Need the  
>distraction &amp; some supplies.'<em>

I mentally thanked my friend for not using 'Gr8' at least and shoved my phone back in my pocket before grabbing the last mouthful.

When I had finished eating I still had some time to kill so I meandered through the stalls for a while, passively running the inventory of our fridge in my head for any blatantly missing items I could pick up while I was here. I was staring right through a basket of eggplants when a voice called out to me.

"Oi! Naomikins! Whether it's radicchio or fellatio you're looking for, we've got it right here!"

As I spun around, my eyes came to rest on the young, dishevelled larrikin I'd met on Sunday with his hands boldly pointing at his crotch and grinning like a Cheshire Cat. I rolled my eyes and rushed over.

"Well, it looks like someone's got a big vocabulary and a liiiiittle dick-tionary!" I snapped back.

The boy seemed unfazed. "Whatever babe; they all come to the Cookie Monster in the end." He threw his hands up in the air to as if to illustrate his point.

_Cook, that's right! That was his name!_

"So is this your stall then?" I asked, casting my eyes across the messy array of still unwashed fruit and veg.

"Nah, Dad's technically. But I've been running it for him for a while, ain't it... same name and all. James Cook. So the lease never changed."

"Where is he then?"

"Indisposed" came the simple reply "He won't mind though, I run a good shop. Business is better than when he was involved." Cook winked and gave me another of his gormlessly charming grins.

Right at that moment a flash of red brushed past me, skirted around the display and flung herself into his arms. A second later they were snogging like teenagers in heat and she had thrown a leg around his waist which he had so quickly grabbed to pull her close I suspected they did this quite often. My stomach flinched. When he finally released her she smiled coyly as if nobody had seen her recent brazen display of whoreishness.

"Hey Babes. Take me to lunch, yeah?" the creature hissed and I realised the voice was not the same. I could tell it wasn't nearly as soft and velvety, even though it wasn't singing, and it was accented by a slightly affected lisp.

Eventually the girl turned around to see me gawking, still trying to put two and two together.

"Uhm, are you staring? Because that is downright rude!"

"Be nice to Blondie, Katie!" cook cautioned, still clinging to her with one arm. "She's just a little confused."

_Confused is right! There was a second one? _Although in all other regards, this one appeared to be the anti-Emily. There was no immediate warmth to her, she was not soft-spoken or shy in the slightest. Though she did have undeniable charisma, it was not the same as that which radiated from the stage the other night. Now that I let myself observe her properly, I noticed that her clothes were very different too. She was wearing a patterned mini-skirt and rather low-cut top with shoes that were most definitely not designed to wear to market. Her hair, although red as well, was more primped and styled, falling in curls over large hoop earrings. Finally her wrist was adorned with a multitude of bangles which seemed to weigh her fist further into her hip as she posed, still waiting for me to reply.

"You're... her sister" I pushed out.

"If you mean Emily, then yeah. She's my twin." She handed me a crisp white business card with gold lettering. 'Fitch Fashion' read the curly print and below in smaller letters 'Katie Fitch – director, head designer'. On the back were some numbers and an address in the centre of town.

"And who, may I ask, are you?"

Cook howled with laughter at my impending response, but then he did something I had not expected.

"Names are not important hun. I like her, be cool with it." When he saw Katie was still expecting at least a first name he groaned before adding "Ok fine! Katiekins, meet Naomikins. Naomikins, Katiekins. And that's all you need to know." He finished motioning between us with his free hand and stood back satisfied.

Katie too seemed content with that and I made a mental note to go easier on Cook in the future.

"Naomi, perfect! I see you've met Cook." came Effy's voice from behind a few shoppers.

"Yeah, we met on Sunday at the festival actually. How do you two know each other?"

"Well, as you know I live nearby and Cook here has the best organic fruit and veg around."

Cook beamed "See, told you Blondie: look no further!" he turned to Effy "So what can I get you today, little miss?"

"The usual quantity of your finest hydroponic oregano, kind sir, if you please." She curtsied.

"Ah well, since you've spoken the magic words..." he winked.

Effy's mouth curled up in a corner smile at Katie while Cook turned back to fossick through a box behind his display. When he re-emerged, he discretely handed Effy a small plastic bag which she quickly pocketed in return for a folded bill.

I was starting to understand why Cook did ok for himself, despite the apparent disarray of his stall.

"So what else is news Eff?" asked Cook, the transaction complete.

"Oh, you know, not much." Effy replied with not an ounce of fake humility. "Just that reading at the Arnolfini I have coming up."

"Yeah, Ems is going to that I think." Katie interjected "She said something about a poetry reading Freddie's girlfriend was involved in."

Effy's smile widened, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "That's me."

"What, and I'm not invited?" Cook exclaimed "Eff, don't make me run your supply short. Where's the love?"

"Sure, you can come. And so can Katie if she wants."

Katie huffed but Cook bellowed over the top of her "Ah, now that's more like it! Excellent! We'll see you then."

Most people would not have noticed Katie's look of frustration at being roped into something so alternative, especially with Cook's continued loud and effusive carrying-on.

But Effy did. Effy always noticed.


	4. Michelle

**Right so it seems you people are a lot like me and can't wait for Emily to return and talk to our Naomi. But just for now, let's pretend that we don't already know the story, because after all: it's about the ride!**

**I can't thank you all enough for your words of encouragement and for reading in the first place. Every morsel of praise makes my heart swell and sink all at once. I feel like I've got more to live up to now. Not stopping though, I can't get enough of this.**

**So if you recall chapter one, Naomi had sorta committed to a gathering of minds at 'The Sleepout'. And as she is a woman of her word, this is where she must go. Although I do promise some actual Naomily interaction in the next chapter because, like you, I'm anxious to get to that bit (as is Naomi).**

**As always, Disclaimer: I don't own Skins, but I've spent many a sleepless night with it.**

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><p>I was standing outside 'The Sleepout' 15 minutes early weighing my options.<p>

_Why did I ever think this was a good idea?  
>Fuck's sake Naomi! Think of it as growth: You could meet some new people.<br>Yeah, but on the other hand: you could meet some new people..._

I had ridden my bike in to work that day because Thomas had slept at Pandora's and didn't need a lift into town. I spent most of the day looking forward to the gathering of kindred spirits until the reality of the invitation dawned on me when it got closer to the time. As a result the last hour at work was spent worrying about pragmatic issues like how long it would take me to get to Colston Street on the bike and what time I should leave to give myself enough time. As usual, I overshot it.

'The Sleepout' was a typical student frequented hole-in-the-wall like so many other alternative hipster joints. It seemed to me the sheer proliferation of these would-be unique and quirky cafes or bars somewhat ironically took away part of their intended appeal. Nonetheless this venue did have a certain charm and seemed like a comfortable place to hang, judging by the mass of patrons gathered inside the relatively small space. Mostly uni students of course, but a few people my age and upwards peppered the crowd.

The place would have been an old family house in its previous incarnation. The latest owners had intentionally knocked down uneven portions of the non load bearing dividing walls to the three front rooms. This left them with three interconnecting run-on spaces or one long room with crumbling face brick remnants of its former partitions. The middle room was set up with a bar and connected through the back to the original kitchen of the house. The two end walls were painted a deep red but the wall behind the bar featured a floor to ceiling collage of multiple band, movie, festival and propaganda posters.

As I stepped inside and surveyed the groups in the space I could hear the local uni radio station's 6 o'clock programming playing through the sound system. The setting sunlight dipped low between the buildings on the other side of the street and through the windows of the venue, casting odd shadows amongst the deliberately mismatched tables and chairs. I spotted a few of the faces I'd seen at Eco-Future sitting around a table in the corner nearest the coffee machine. _Classic Journos, never stray too far away from your next caffeine shot_. I thought with a smile. My eyes ran over each face from a distance while they chatted animatedly. All of them still perfect strangers. _Yes that's right Naomi, that's what people are before you get to know them!_

_Still, they wouldn't notice if I didn't show up._

I turned on my feet to leave and came face to face with Michelle.

"Oh good! You made it!" she smiled warmly and grabbed my arm, leading me without a thought to the table where the others had just noticed the new arrival. "Everybody, you remember Naomi from Sunday? Naomi, this is..." she swept her arm rapidly around the table "Charlotte, Josh, Liam, Miranda, Lilly and Aidan."

_Oh sweet Jesus help me..._

The brunette unbuttoned her singularly yellow jacket and slung it over the back of an empty chair next to the guy she had dubbed Josh. She sat down and motioned for me to do the same. I nodded and took the remaining chair between Miranda and Lilly.

"So Naomi" Josh started "I take it Michelle has explained to you the premise of these little informal meetings of ours then?"

I cleared my throat "Yes, she told me you guys freelance... from all around the world... and you guys are in between locations at the moment." I looked around the table at the motley bunch. The girls were quite professionally dressed and looked to be roughly in their mid to late twenties. The one sitting to my right, Miranda I think, might have been a little older. I guessed early thirties. I was reassured to note that they were all smiling at me rather pleasantly.

The boys though were a bit more of a mix. Josh, who seemed to be very much in charge, had dark wavy hair and was quite handsome. He wore a blue zip-up jumper over a white fitted t-shirt with a comicbook strip across the front and a lighter blue and black chequered scarf loosely tied around his neck. Liam looked a little older than him and, like me, seemed to have come straight from an office as he was still in dress shirt and slacks. His face was friendly and he reached across the table to shake my hand in welcome. Aidan on the other hand, looked like a scruffy ruffian in comparison. Tangled black hair in bad need of a haircut fell into his eyes. He didn't look like he had shaved in a few days and his hemp-leaf-patterned hoodie seemed to finish the sentence his body language had started: _You guys are lucky I'm even here, but I ran out of smokes so I figured I'd come down and bum a few._

Michelle had stood up again and walked over to the counter while Josh resumed where he had left off.

"Well what 'Shell might not have filled you in on is how we started off."

I shook my head and he continued.

"We _were_ the Bristol branch of Reporters without Borders, started here by this guy Tony."

I nodded, not only had I heard of Reporters without Borders but the whole picture was suddenly filling in. I was finally making the connection of what I should have realised on Sunday. Provocative trouble-seeker Tony Stonem, Effy's older brother and my mentor in Political Science through uni, had started Bristol's own branch of Reporters without Borders fresh out of Queen Mary. True to the Stonem name and reputation, he was all about freedom of speech and was keen to further the fight against censorship and political injustice from across the channel as well.

"But his methods became a bit... radical..." Josh paused... "Suffice it to say that most of us who had joined at the onset felt that his idea of activism had become too... brutal... for our liking. A few people left; but Shell, she stood up to him."

Michelle had just come back to the table with two – unsurprisingly mismatched – mugs of coffee. She set one down in front of me before running her newly freed hand along the back of Josh's shoulders at the mention of her name. He looked up and smiled at her, wrapping his arm around her before going on with the story.

"So in a final act of revolt, we staged a coup with the remaining members and voted him out. We figured the pen was mightier than the sword, and all that. Anyway, after that we couldn't very well keep the name so it became the 'Daily Planeteers'" He gestured at the comic strip on his t-shirt for emphasis. "And here we are! Now our focus is more about creating something positive than tearing down adversaries; spreading word rather than dissent."

"That's really laudable." I said when I sensed he was finished, unable to voice much else at this stage.

Michelle was staring proudly at him and the others raised their own mugs in accord. After that the conversation relaxed into more casual banter. They asked a little about my history but mostly, and thankfully, the discussion centred on writing and locations.

Aidan had come back from a posting in Australia a few months back and was living on his mother's couch 'for now'. Miranda had just come back from Indonesia and was planning a return trip with a photographer buddy in a few weeks. Liam and Charlotte, who I learnt was from Lucerne in Switzerland, had met on assignment in Greece. They had taken the lazy route back through Europe by train to settle back in Bristol for a little while before deciding on their next move. Lilly was keen to head to India next but she was still working out logistics. She was one of the newest members of the team so she was picking Michelle's brains for tips.

The group traded horror stories from their latest trips and I found myself envying even the most horrific experiences they were recounting. This was why I had wanted to go into journalism in the first place. But surely there wasn't much of a living to be made like that.

"Enough to live on." prompted Josh

"And to survive sparingly in between postings." added Liam "Of course some of us have our own 'day jobs' to make ends meet in the interim. I run my own web-design company so I can do that remotely and meet with prospective clients when I'm in town."

Miranda cut in "For those of us who don't though, we save money on rent however we can. Over-packed share-house for me, Mum's house for Aidan. It also depends on how much you spend on luxuries that tend to go up in smoke..."

Aidan rolled his eyes and readjusted the sunglasses he was still wearing.

"Well, that's good enough for me."I laughed "Sign me up! If you'll have me that is..."

Again all the cups came up into the centre of the table and coffee was haphazardly spilled as the mugs were clunked together as if we were toasting with pints.

I was finishing my third coffee when the message alert on my phone went off in my pocket. It was Thomas.

_Naomi,  
>I have eaten with Pandora.<br>There is left over Chicken  
>Moambe on the counter.<br>Bonne nuit_

Only then did I realise how late it had gotten. I gathered my things and thanked the group, swallowing the last of my drink and standing up. Michelle gave me a hug and Josh extended his hand to me. The other girls and Liam waved and Aidan simply nodded curtly in my direction.

As soon as I got home I reheated my dinner and, before long, I was drifting off into the sort of idealistic and romanticised dreams I used to have as a child. Dreams of adventure and faraway places. Dreams of making a difference, maybe not changing the world but being a part of it.


	5. Effy

**I'm updating this from a borrowed laptop because mine was stolen from my car when it was broken into on the weekend. (I know: foolish! I feel bad enough as it is, the guilt just makes it worse…)**

**So we have my flatmate to thank for tiding me over in the meantime. This one goes out to him.**

**Hope you'll forgive my supporting-character-bashing in this chapter, it's not like he's supposed to be well liked anyway and I needed a scapegoat.**

**Thanks again for reading and reviewing.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Skins, it owns me.**

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><p>Darkness. Up and down the street as we piled out of Pandora's van, the street lamps were not yet on. The three of us made our way into the imposing Arnolfini.<p>

I had spent the rest of my afternoon off after the markets with Effy, compiling the ideal selection of material to submit to the Arnolfini rep. Cassie was a discerning critic, albeit a bit flighty and subjective in her choices. But Effy was a good writer. It seemed her darker material tapped into something in Cassie because all of our suggestions were taken on board without question.

Effy had arrived earlier with her brother and Freddie to help set up the room since Cassie had told us she wanted to include one of Eff's collages in a backdrop to the staging. The room we walked into was also dark and quiet but for the low murmur of people already seated and the sound of Cassie fluttering between low tables, lighting candles.

To create a more informal feel to the reading, they had set up a mess of carpets in a rough circle on the floor and strewn cushions around the place. There was no stage to speak of. Instead a modest microphone stood alone in the centre next to the only chair. The candles cast a dim glow around the space; just enough to make out the work that was up on the walls. Each of the readers had been given one to do with it what they pleased.

My eyes went straight to Effy's left wall. From the high museum picture rail hung a mounted version of my friend's old bedroom collage. I, for one, felt she had made much better (and nicer) ones since then. But then I guess this one fit best with the concept of the night. It was created in the same dark era she had written most of what she would be reading to us. And I'm sure Anthea was glad to see it leave her daughter's bedroom wall to be reassembled here. The collage itself was a messy composition of newspaper cuttings with segmented magazine pictures adding a few touches of colour. The scarce flickering lights occasionally landed dramatically on words Effy had scrawled in between the clippings in red ink. _Nice one Effy! Very angsty, very provocative._

It was a snapshot of depressed-teenager-Effy and I didn't really care for the reminder. She was still pretty introverted and existential, don't get me wrong. But her mother had slowly gotten a handle on her treatment and, after her dad left and Tony moved out, they had grown closer for fighting it together. If Effy had not yet put her demons behind her, she had gotten very proficient at concealing them from outsiders. I knew because we had some of that in common, I had known her long enough. The absent father, the bottling things up from the outside world – it was all too familiar. Only when presented with a visual rendering of Effy's psyche like this, it really made me realize that my troubles were not as distressing as they could be. I drew in a grateful breath and thanked my Mother and my brain's chemical make-up for sparing me the turmoil that was my best friend's.

The second wall, across from us, had been painted with charcoal coloured blackboard paint. The artist had divided the surface with white chalk lines into smaller vignettes and sketched images within them. The whole thing looked like the negative of a comic book line drawing. It was quite effective.

The third wall was splashed with colour. It was plastered with photos scrappily blu-tacked to the surface to form letters. _KRISPIN_ it read out in capital letters. A closer inspection revealed the photos were as self-centered as the overall message. All were candid shots of the creator and a few mates boom-boxing at what looked like an open-mic night or posing, staring closely into camera.

When I returned to the centre of the room and sat near Thomas and Pandora after my examination of the setup, a few more people had arrived and it was almost time to start. I shoved my scribbled notes back into my shoulder bag and surveyed the other attendees. Anthea sat further up the front facing the microphone with Tony and Freddie either side of her. The Band's drummer, Sid I think, had finished helping Cassie with the candles and had perched on a footstool next to Tony. There were no other familiar faces.

Just then a voice came ringing unceremoniously from the direction of the door.

"Fear not! Cook is here. You may now start proceedings..."

Heads spun around to the source of the noise in time to see Katie, with her arm on his, making futile efforts to hush him. I understood then what Katie had meant when she had informed me 'She's my twin' back at the market. She was evidently the older of the two, and what difference a few minutes must have made over the years! Katie was making her grand entrance, fashionably late and on the arm of her 'beau'. She looked quite stunning – I had to admit – in a long flowing tunic over skinny jeans and high heeled sandals. It became patently obvious that her choice of words was quite calculated. She was not Emily's twin; Emily was hers.

The more modest twin walked in behind them on the arm of another young man with curly hair. All eyes followed Katie and Cook as they proceeded to their cushions. My gaze was riveted to the brighter red hair and trying to read the body language of her suitor. He seemed a little nervous but happy to be with her and comfortable as long as she was near.

A third couple walked in behind them, the sax player and a tall scruffy guy in bright, loose fitting slacks. The four of them pushed their way to a spot behind us and Emily smiled politely at the sitting people she passed. There wasn't much room left anywhere. The audience was tightly packed and everyone seemed to squish in further on their cushions when Cassie stepped up and took the microphone.

"Oh wow! It's so good to see such a big crowd here! Thank you for coming down tonight…"

Her voice trailed off in my head when I felt a nudge to my lower back. I spun around to check the cause and saw Emily looking apologetic. _Again. _

"Sorry" she murmured and her eyes flickered down to her crossed legs. She readjusted her knees one last time, having shuffled in, and smiled sheepishly. It was a tight lipped smile that pushed a little dimple up her left cheek. Even though her eyes were downcast I could see the tiny creases at the corners which told me it was sincere. There was also the slightest hint of a blush on her cheeks.

Cassie quickly finished introducing the first poet for the evening, a girl called Ania. I jotted that down in my notebook and listened. Having never been to a poetry reading before, I didn't much know what to expect. I could tell though that Effy's work was well selected to fit in with this. The work was very introspective but quite moving. The meter alternating between clipped and flowing to convey emotions quite successfully for such a young writer. As she worked her way through the third stanza, I started to drift off on the rhythm of the words.

I could feel the faintest breath on the back of my neck and I knew where it was coming from. Or more precisely: I knew _who_ it was coming from and it was making it increasingly difficult to concentrate. Emily's offending knee still made light contact with my back.

As the reading continued, I willed myself to focus. I wasn't just here for myself. Besides, she was here with a guy. And what's more I had exchanged only a handful of words with her, most of which had been apologies.

When it got to Effy's turn I had managed to regain my composure a little. I had regrouped a bit by shuffling forward, sacrificing the warmth of her contact. I missed it as soon as I did but I rationalized. In front of me was the first column with actual byline I was to write; behind me was a taken straight girl I barely knew. I jotted down further notes, mostly on people's reactions to the poems as I'd heard Effy's work before. She seemed to be well received and the crowd maintained its captivated silence for both girls.

Up last, and I'm sad to say least, was the infamous Krispin – with a K. The poor lad was not nearly talented enough to keep my attention. I tried to focus, I really did. I wanted nothing more than a ready distraction. Sadly there's only so much interest I could honestly give to the boy when he was scatting and reciting lyrics to his own rap songs. I understood why Cassie had asked Effy to extend her segment and read a closing poem of her choice after Krispin's.

For the duration of Krispin's reading my mind ran off again. I sighed heavily and leaned back on my arms, observing the reactions of the crowd again. _That was a mistake_. The second I had done this I realized my left forearm had come in contact with Emily's shin and I flinched. With the drawling background of Krispin laboriously rhyming 'homie' with 'blow me' I reassessed. Our eyes met again and this time she smiled more openly. Her look seemed to say 'Who is this joker?' and mine in return said 'I know!'

Returning to face the front however, I didn't remove my arm. For the rest of his short segment I felt arcs of warmth, like a pulse, radiating up my arm from the soft contact with her flesh. It suddenly made it almost bearable, more than bearable - I wished he'd written another verse. Cassie returned all too soon to address the crowd. She returned Effy to us for her selected poem and the brunette did not even take time to sit.

Eff bent down and took the mic off the stand.

"When Cass asked me to chose a poem to read for the closing, I didn't even have to think about which one. This was always it. I read a collection of Emily Dickinson poems when I was 15 and they taught me I was human."

She then recited off by heart, staring straight out at the audience:

_They shut me up in Prose  
>As when a little Girl<br>They put me in the Closet  
>Because they liked me "still" <em>

_Still! Could themself have peeped  
>And seen my Brain – go round<br>They might as wise have lodged a Bird  
>For Treason – in the Pound<em>

The crowd broke into slow peels of scattered applause. Faces were stunned and appreciative. I reluctantly brought my hands together to clap my best friend. I could hear enthusiastic clapping over my left shoulder and I knew.

After the reading Effy returned to us looking relieved. She barely had a minute to gather her wits however before the different groups of us who had come to support her had converged. While Tony was giving her his congratulatory hug Cook grabbed my shoulder and yanked me around.

"Naomikins, you haven't met these lovely people have you?"

"Uhm… Can't say I have."

"Well, Freddie here and I are mates. That's mainly how I know our Effy. That's Jal and her boy Chris; they live with him. This is my other mate JJ, he's a big softie, you'll love 'im. And of course" he gestured at Emily "Emergency-back-up-Katie."

"You wish!" The twins broke out in unison.

I finished shaking hands with the others and extended my arm to her. She grabbed my hand and, before I could react, she had pulled me into a spontaneous hug. "I'm Emily by the way" She whispered before releasing me. I was shocked to see she looked as shaky as I felt when she stood back. Despite having initiated the hug, it was as if she had been moved to do it rather than chosen so. She almost looked embarrassed at her over-keen display of warmth.

"Well the night's not over until we've had a party, and it's not a party until I've had some booze. Who's in?" Cook was saying.

"I'm keen" offered Freddie "and I'm sure Effy could do with a stiff drink now that's she's done. Our place?"

Emily, JJ, Chris and Jal all nodded. As the crowd dispersed we gathered Effy and the others and walked outside. Freddie and Pandora each pulled up their vans as transport for the fourteen of us who had decided to party on.

Effy climbed in next to Freddie. JJ volunteered to come with us in Pandora's van "in case the convoy gets separated" he had said, as if this was a genuine risk in an operation of some importance. Cook and Katie followed him in.

Tony helped Jal and Cassie in to Freddie's before following, along with Chris and Sid.

Katie motioned at Emily to get in with her but Cook clicked his tongue when she approached the side door.

"Sorry babe, you've turned me down on the twin thing. There's no more room in here to get cozy. Back of the line." He motioned to the back door of Panda's van which I had just climbed in.

I held it open for her and we sat on the benches either side, facing each other over Panda's folded massage table.

The vans started with a jolt and we made our way along the dimly lit streets to the musos' share-house. I looked out the back window trying to appear nonchalant. Suave-Naomi had too often turned into goofy-Naomi or overshot cool completely becoming rude and frigid.

We turned another corner and Emily put her hand gently on my knee.

"You didn't tell me your name." she prompted "I mean, Cook called you 'Naomikins' but I'm assuming that's a 'Cookism'."

"Oh…" she was right, and both the question and the gesture had caught me by surprise. So much so that I didn't have time to think twice as I always do before answering that particular question. "Naomi Campbell" I replied quietly.

She didn't laugh, just nodded and smiled again. That same smile from before that made her lips curl up at the ends and her cheeks flush a rosy hue. Only this time she kept her brown eyes on mine.


	6. JJ

**Ok I feel like I have soooo much I want to fit into this chapter that I feel like I'm going to forget something. If I do I'll just have to make another chapter to feature what's missing.**

**On a tangent note – things I am enjoying at the moment (aside from waking up to your lovely reviews, keep them coming. And please please please tell me if I do something you don't like or don't agree with or understand): **

**Who else out there is enjoying 'What the Heart Sees' by FitchSwitch? I'm finding it the most delicious AU with a sweet premise and a beautiful exploration of Emily and Naomi's relationship. It's playful and funny but also really touching. And although the story is still in its infancy, 'Heart of Stone' comes to us from seasoned veteran LizardWriter. I'm a hooked on it already. It's self-indulgent AU at its best, everyone is raving about Mobster-Effy so jump on the bandwagon. **

**Meanwhile in BlueEyedFrog's imaginary Bristol, there was a party brewing…**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Skins, but if it came to Australia I'd let it sleep on my futon.**

* * *

><p>As the van barreled along in the night behind Freddie's we all sat in silence for a moment. Thomas flicked a nob on the dash and we heard the crackly stereo sputter into life and filter down from the front.<p>

"So who exactly lives in this share-house we are crashing?" I asked at nobody in particular.

It as Emily who answered first "It's JJ's place, well his parents' really, but we all live there. They've moved into a smaller place in the country."

"All? Who's all?" I was puzzled.

"OK, it's a bit complicated. Us 'Odd Sorts' basically. But I moved in with him first. JJ offered me the guest loft when I moved out of home at 19."

_Mental note: they're not sharing a bedroom, this is good. Very good indeed._

"Oh" was all I could muster. For all my mother's neuroses, I hadn't felt the need to move out until I was almost 22.

JJ must have read my confusion because he illustrated Emily's point with a strangely specific contribution: "Yes actually, the Office for National Statistics says that 25% of men aged 25 to 29 still live with their parents. That's almost double the proportion of women in their late 20s. That's to say about 13%. But even so, Em was well out of the current norm, moving out so early. I guess it didn't help that her m...

"Yes thanks JJ!" interrupted Emily with a kind hand on his shoulder before he could finish that sentence.

Emily continued her explanation where she had left off "Jal came back from the Performing Arts Academy the following year and moved into the master bedroom."

She tucked a strand of vibrant hair behind her ear and scratched her button nose before pushing on.

"Freddie was next. There weren't any bedrooms left but he asked if he could move into the garage anyway. I think he was happy to have more space and independence. He's done it up quite nicely actually, it's cool."

"Sounds nice" I said. The funky outsider image seemed to suit Freddie.

"Yeah, plus he comes and goes at odd hours so he has his own access and it's perfect"

JJ nodded in accord with her at that last comment.

"Uhm, let's see… After that Sid needed a place to stay for a few months so we turned the dining room into a bedroom. That was a year and a half ago." She giggled as the memory flickered visibly across her face.

The warmth in her eyes seemed to radiate across the back of the van and I cursed the fact that I wasn't sitting near an operable window. I needed fresh air.

I shuffled uneasily in my seat and felt a loose spring poke me in the thigh. I yelped and my leg shot out involuntarily and kicked poor Emily's ankle. Immediately I reached between the jumble of folded trestles that propped up the massage table to place my hand on the raise of her ankle bone. "I'm sorry" I mumbled again as I rubbed the spot quickly, attempting to soothe it with my fingers. She coughed and drew her leg back in a flash. I removed my hand as quickly as it had been there.

_Christ! I had made her uncomfortable. Great job Naomi! Kick the poor girl and then invade her personal space. Real smooth!_

Katie huffed at the commotion. "What's going on back there?"

"Something poked me" I whined.

Cook poorly stifled a snort. Meanwhile Pandora waved her free hand in the central mirror "Oh yeah, sorry Naoms! Mind the spring back there."

I grumbled a little louder than necessary for effect. "Thanks Pandora, I got it." _Bit late now…_

Emily had turned away for a moment but when she turned back she had collected herself and seemed to bear no grudge.

"Anyway where was I?" she breathed out "after Chris lost his job at the real estate agency and the small studio they rented him was no longer subsidized, he crashed on our couch for a night. The very next night he was shacked up with Jal. He's been sharing her room ever since."

The van leaned out of the turn as we veered around a corner and entered a more leafy street on the outskirts of town.

Cook spun around in his seat. "What is it you call the place again Emilio?"

Emily answered Cook's question to me "JJ named it actually. He calls it Sans-Souci. Apparently it's the name of some Prussian palace, am I right Jay?" She turned to him for confirmation.

He beamed at the opportunity she had given him to share this with us. "Frederick the Great's summer palace in Potsdam."

Emily smiled at him when he didn't go on "But basically it's French for 'without worries' or 'carefree' which is what I like." She added.

"Hakuna Matata" echoed Cook with a beaming smile and hands raised.

He brought his arms down over the back of their bench and wrapped his left around Katie and his right around JJ. Reclining noisily, he stretched his legs out and crossed them on top of the centre console.

"Ah… it's got potential, this night. 's pregnant! I can feel it."

All of us were still laughing at that when we pulled onto a grass verge in front of a rather large house a few moments later. We spilled into the house one by one and were guided straight through to the back yard by Freddie. The yard was large and seemed to be used quite a bit. It wasn't very fancy, just pavers under a veranda and the rest was all browning grass. But in the night time they had set up fairy lights around the top of the fence. A few couches and armchairs assembled in the corner, opposite the shed, which looked like they must have been collected off the roadside.

Freddie ran inside and started up the sound system which was soon piping 'Vampire Weekend' through the speakers under the verandah.

Cook rolled a metal drum up to the centre of the garden and returned from the shed with an armful of coal and firewood. JJ was on him like a flash. "No, no Cook! What are you doing?" Ignoring his friend's pleas, Cook pulled a flask from the waistband of his pants and tipped alcohol into the thing "I'd really rather you didn't do tha…" Cook finally threw a lit match into it, setting the insides ablaze.

"Oh my giddy, giddy aunt!" exclaimed JJ. He hid his face in his hands and went to stand by Emily who soothed him by shoving a plastic cup in his hands and patting his arm affectionately.

"Oi Rainman!" Cook shouted back. "Don't worry, I've got this one sor'ed." He necked the rest of his flask.

Emily turned to me and Effy waving two empty cups "Pinot Grigio? Beer? I think we can do a few cocktails with what we've got here. I make a mean Screaming Orgasm. We're out of Midori though so no Quick Fucks on the menu tonight." She grinned lecherously at neither of us in particular.

Effy asked for Vodka straight up. I had no fucking clue what I wanted in that moment.

"Surprise me." I said, resting my hands on my hips.

"Ok…" She pondered for a moment "One blue-Eyed Blonde, coming up!"

As she set about making my drink I stared in stunned silence.

"I'm a bartender" she offered as clarification "It pays the bills, and that's how I got my start singing. Dingy pub I worked in had a weekly open mic night. JJ pushed me to do it. After that I was hooked."

She handed me my drink. It was a strange colour on account of the blue liqueur she had added to the crème de cacao, Irish cream and vodka. I put the cup to my lips and marveled at this new discovered talent of hers.

"This is amazing!"

She shrugged her shoulders and smiled, finished another one of the same for herself and followed me to the couches. I sat in the two-seater but she dropped opposite me on the single armchair. It amused me to see the singular way she perched herself across the dusty green, ribbed velvet object. Her skirt hiked a tiny bit higher as she crossed her legs over the armrest, one foot bopping up and down in time with the music.

"So do you like my cocktails better than my singing then?" she asked nodding towards my rapidly consumed drink.

"The set was great!" I offered. '_Great!'? What the fuck Naomi 'great'? You spontaneously wrote almost 400 words on them, quite unsolicited, you're about to write your first official entertainment section review for another event and all you can come up with is 'great'?_

Emily was smiling warmly anyway. "I'm glad you liked it. It's when I really feel like myself, you know. Like I matter. But it's only this year since the boys joined me and we formed the band that I've really gotten to perform to proper audiences."

Cook was attempting a keg-stand in the background, assisted by Freddie and Chris. Each of them held him up by one side as he tipped upside down with the tap in his mouth. His polo shirt dropped over his head, revealing a rather large and ornate tattoo of a cross down the left hand side of his ribcage.

Emily noticed me looking past her and peeked over her shoulder at what had distracted me.

"Christ, he's mental, isn't he!" she waited for my response.

"Yeah, he's a character. Certainly knows how to get a party started."

"I can see what my sister sees in him though. He's loyal to a fault and he draws attention to them. She's always liked that. She keeps telling me JJ is scaring off all the fit boys like Cook because they all assume we're together."

"You're not?"

Emily laughed at me "No we're not!" She had to draw a breath again before adding "But you see what I mean then? Maybe she's right… although… there was that one time…"

She recounted an anecdote about the two of them sleeping together once, and once only, in college. They had been close friends ever since. I was relieved to hear that she was single but didn't much like the idea of Katie giving her tips to start picking up guys.

Suddenly I had an idea. "Oh hey, I'm formulating an evil plan here."

"What are you plotting Campbell?" she fired back, joining in on the game.

"Well… the receptionist at work has been on a string of bad dates lately and it seems JJ hasn't been on many dates at all. They'd be about the same age. I'm thinking we set them up. What do you think? Too pushy?"

Emily howled with laughter. _I made another mental note to file that sound under 'things that make you go mmm' in my brain._

"I love it!" she cried "My matchmaking skills for him have been pretty shite to date. He's hard to pick for, obviously. I'd be happy to see somebody else try their hand at it."

"Oh good! How about Saturday at The Tunnels? I can just invite Lara to come along to the gig. I presume JJ will be there…"

"Great! You're coming!" she interrupted with a smile made crooked by her biting her lip "And yes, you have my blessing: Go forth and scheme away!"

I nodded "Brilliant! I think that calls for another drink to celebrate." I got up, the first one was already going to my head and making me feel more at ease. It was obviously having the same effect on Emily as there were few signs left of the nervous creature that had slammed into me on Sunday.

We replenished our drinks with more of the same and returned to the couches. I propped my elbows on my knees and leaned forward, observing the shenanigans around the bonfire. Most of these of course were led by Cook but the others were no longer far behind in following suit. Sid had gone inside to put on a new CD when the first had ended. The stickier beats of 90's alt rock came through the sound system as I recognized Cake's _Fashion Nugget._

"Old School, Sid!" yelled Tony in approval. And the gang danced more vigorously still.

"So you know both what I do for a living _and_ my passion. I'm still none the wiser about the inscrutable Naomi Campbell." Emily ventured.

_Crap, was my reputation that widespread or was this girl just really perceptive?_

"I'm not inscrutable!" I lied, adding a pout for good measure "Ask me and I'll tell you. My passion _is _my day job, although I'm still at entry level. I work for the Evening Post for my Mum's boyfriend."

"Nepotism is alive and well!"

I flipped her off. She feigned shock. I continued.

"I help him edit the Opinions Page and occasionally write the odd column. Actually that's what I was scribbling tonight. The head of the Arts and Entertainment section wants me to cover the reading."

"Wow, that's fantastic Naoms!"

A nest – no, a _swarm_ of butterflies took off in my stomach at the sound of the new nickname in her mouth. I pushed the feeling down as best I could with the increasing buzz of the alcohol and clarified.

"What I really want to do though is move up to the Political Pages. That's what I studied at uni. I want to make a difference and I wouldn't be my mother's daughter if I didn't hate injustice." I paused, feeling foolish… "That sounded dumb. I mean…"

"No, no! Not at all!" she assured me. "On the contrary, it sounds like you're really clever."

I raised my cup to my face and drained the rest of my cocktail to hide the blush that spread across my cheeks.

"So you must be pretty busy with work then these days." She continued when I didn't respond to her compliment.

"Yeah, getting busier. But can't stand being idle so it's a good thing. I'd rather be run off my feet than bored out of my skull, you know."

"I know what you mean."

The whole party cheered when the intro to the next song started up. Emily got up and ran to the table, pouring four shots of vodka she'd lined up in quick succession. She sculled the first before I caught up to her. The second was shoved into my hand and she nodded, downing the third. She left the fourth behind on the table and ran into the crowd. Katie grabbed her arm and twirled it over her head then went back to grinding up against Cook who's shirt was now nowhere to be seen.

Emily just threw her arms to the side and started twirling, looking up at the sky and laughing. Her skirt danced around her legs as she spun faster and faster. The glow from the fire threw erratic outlines across her chest and back as it crackled from within the dark metal bin. That same reckless abandon she was reining in on stage Sunday to perform was given free realm here and I basked in the beauty of it. I told myself that this was her feeling comfortable. Much like JJ felt comforted by her presence. She showed everyone else here that they were ok. She was happy to be there near them. She could relax.

Thinking that, I relaxed a little more myself and scooped up the last shot. When I joined the throng, they had started singing along, or rather drunkenly shouting the lyrics to the chorus everybody knew:

_If you can't make your mind up  
>We'll never get started,<br>And I don't wanna wind up  
>Being parted, broken hearted.<em>

_So if you really love me, say 'yes'  
>But if you don't dear, confess<br>And please don't tell me_  
>'<em>PERHAPS, PERHAPS, PERHAPS!'<em>

Emily grasped both my hands and waved them up and down playfully to the rhythm of the trumpet. I joined in singing for the repeat.

When the next song, a slower number, started I excused myself and went inside to use the bathroom, feeling too flushed for my own good. I needed to splash some water on my face. I walked past JJ who appeared to be performing magic tricks for an amused Thomas and an awestruck Pandora. I caught drabs of the conversation.

"Bloomin' heck! That's impossible!" squealed Panda.

"Inexplicable, but not impossible." JJ corrected.

She turned to her boyfriend "What's inexplicable Thommo?"

"Can't explain it." supplied a patient Thomas. I could hear a hint of tiredness in his voice.

"Right, suit yourself!" she pouted and JJ chuckled.

When I got back from the bathroom Thomas let me know that he and Panda were heading off.

I deflated "Oh… Ok, I'll grab my stuff." making a move towards my discarded bag.

He stopped me with his hand on my elbow. "Non, non. There is no need. I have asked Cook and Katie if they can drive you home when you are ready. Cook said it was not a problem."

I wasn't sure whether to thank him for arranging me a ride home so I could stay or tell him off for picking Cook and Katie as the ideal ride. Surely Effy would be a more pleasant chauffeur…

I looked outside and my question was answered for me. The brunette had her wrists hooked behind Freddie's neck and his hands were wrapped around her waist inside her leather jacket. If the way they didn't show any signs of parting lips for air was anything to go by, they wouldn't be parting to give yours truly a lift home. Of course, Effy would be sleeping here; Cook and Katie were my only option.

"Thanks Thommo." I sighed and hugged them both goodbye.

I went outside and stood under the veranda, watching the revelers. Pulling out my ratty cigarette pack from my back pocket I tapped one out against my palm. Effy spotted me and approached but she continued swaying as she did. When she reached me she waved her hands around like a belly dancer towards my pack and snatched a smoke from the wrapper. Placing it between her lips with a sly smile, she shimmied bending forward for me to light it. When the thing was alight she moseyed back over to Freddie and proceeded to share my second last cigarette with him.

I had gotten around to lighting my own when Emily walked up. "You _are_ evil! I shouldn't smoke, it's hell on my voice, but I'm going to have to ask you for one of those."

Right then I wished I had another one to offer. Anything to make that voice huskier. It couldn't possibly be a bad thing. "I'm sorry; Eff just took my last one." I shrugged.

"That's ok." she said and without warning she reached across and plucked the thin cylinder from my fingers and put it to her mouth, taking one long drag. I exhaled all the air left in my lungs as she did the same. She put the cigarette back between my lips for me and I had to force my mouth closed so as not to drop the damn thing when she let go.

I liked how this girl stood close to you when she spoke to you. How her eyes looked into yours without avoidance. Her pupils a little dilated as she focused on you.

In the brighter light reaching us from inside I could properly make out for the first time more of the features that differentiated her from her twin. She had a very small beauty spot on her right cheek. It crept imperceptibly closer to the corner of her eye when she smiled. Her heart-shaped face was slightly slimmer than Katie's and her eyebrows were more rounded and less thin, giving her face a kinder look. Her fringe was also cut on a sharper angle than Katie's, which I liked.

As I looked at it, she ran her fingers through it, smoothing it down from the efforts of her dancing.

The CD came to an end and the gang booed. As we were the closest to the door we both rushed inside to pick something to replace it. I knelt beside her in front of the stereo.

"It's getting late. I'm thinking something more mellow."

I nodded in agreement and flicked through the rather extensive alphabetized collection. Wondering if that was JJ's influence, my eyes came to rest on the perfect option. I pulled out the CD and handed it to Emily.

_Motion Picture Soundtrack**  
>Leonard Cohen<br>I'm Your Man**  
>A film by Lian Lunson<em>

"Perfect!" she agreed "The only way to enjoy Cohen..."

"Drunk and sung by other artists!" I completed.

Emily laughed as she inserted the disc into the player. As the music began to play she turned to me.

"Best Hallelujah cover. Quick!"

"Uhm… Uhm… Jeff Buckley. _Has _to be!"

"Hmmm…" she pondered for a second. "Me, I'm more of a Rufus woman."

"Rufus?" I quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Wainwright. Canadian. Gay as a window. Absolutely _awesome_!"

"Well nothing can rival Buckley's version still. He made it almost hopeful."

"But did he sing it to a big green ogre?"

"Huh? Oh! He's the guy who sings the Shrek version… I _have _heard that one. Yeah it's good, but did it win any awards like Jeff Buckley's version did?"

"Didn't have to; it makes sense in the context of his repertoire. I'm sorry, you're not going to win this argument Naoms."

"Oh yes I am! You can disagree with me but you can't tell me that Rolling Stone, Time Magazine and every other TV show and movie that used the Jeff Buckley version were wrong. Ever heard of the _West Wing, House, Scrubs, ER, the Edukators…_"

At that precise moment I was stopped dead in my tracks by Emily's lips pressed firmly against mine.

My heart jumped into my throat and my train of thought ran off the tracks. Her lips were as soft as they had looked under the veranda. What I hadn't expected however, was that she tasted sweet, despite the cigarette we had just shared. Like chocolate milk almost. I remembered the cocktails she had made us – Crème de Cacao… It was a chaste kiss though, perfect and innocent and sweet – like her.

Emily pulled away with a wry smile. "Told you, you weren't going to win that argument!" she wiggled her eyebrow at me.

I was stunned, but I recovered as best I could. "Don't tell me you just kissed me to shut me up!" I said in mock indignation.

"Well… that and you looked cute in full flight of your geeky rant."

"That was not me geeky!" I objected again.

"You were rambling"

"Was not!"

"Were too…"

This time I was the one who leaned in and captured her lips softly, almost as if she hadn't already kissed me and inherently given permission. When I remembered that though, I deepened the kiss, running my tongue along her bottom lip. She hummed into my mouth as hers opened and I was let into the sweet warmth of her.

Her hands came to rest lightly on my hips.

_Mother of all that is fucking delicious torture, I promise to obey your every command if you could find it in yourself to just freeze time… right… now…_

"Cook! Cook!" Katie's voice was approaching. _Fuck!_

I panicked, seized, and bit down a little too hard on Emily's bottom lip before pulling back .

"Cook where _are _you? You lazy wanker! You may not have to work tomorrow but I.. - Oh hi babes!"

She changed tack as soon as she saw us. "Ems, you haven't seen my useless twat of a boyfriend, have you?"

Emily cleared her throat. "Uhm... no."

I jumped to my feet a little too fast and my head spun. "I'll help you look Katie."

"Oh! Thanks!" said the older twin without attempting to hide her surprise. "And I hear you're leaving with us tonight too?"

"If that's ok. My only other lift kinda left an hour ago."

"It's cool. Thomas told me where you lived. It's on the way to my studio. But hurry up, yeah?"

I was not about to try this girl's patience. Common sense told me everybody here except maybe Cook knew better than to do that. So I crossed the room to the sofa and reached over to pick up my bag. When I peered over the back of the sofa I spotted the form of none other than Cook – laying flat on his back between the settee and the wall, snoring peacefully, still without a shirt.

"Ahem! Over here." I wriggled my finger pointing in his direction and Katie stormed up. She snatched a cushion off the couch and threw it at his face.

"Cook! Come _on!_"

Emily and I laughed when he surfaced looking completely lost and confused. He reached up and patted his chest, then his pockets realizing he was missing clothing. Katie dragged him up with impressive strength "Kitchen, inside the fridge." She told him. "You were complaining about being too warm." She led him off in that direction.

Emily grabbed my wrist and pushed a pile of CDs into my hand. I looked down at the 5 cases and read the covers.

_Rufus Wainwright  
>Poses<em>

_Rufus Wainwright  
>Want One<em>

_Rufus Wainwright  
>Want Two<em>

_Rufus Wainwright  
>Release the Stars<em>

_Rufus Wainwright  
>Milwaukee at last<em>

I looked back up and her and beamed. 'Thanks' I mouthed as Katie and Cook re-emerged from the kitchen and she marched him towards the door. I followed.

As I sat in the back of Katie's car during the drive home I thumbed through the inside jackets of the back catalogue she had lent me. Cook had already fallen asleep in the front seat and was snoring even more loudly now that he was upright.

When I opened _Poses_ I noticed an additional piece of paper inside the sleeve. It was a hastily scribbled post-it note:

_You taste like 'Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk'  
>I like that – 07 367 34824<br>Emily xx_

Fucking hell, I was going to have a hangover in the morning!

* * *

><p><strong>Bonus points for anyone who notices anything specific about Emily's mobile number – apart from the fact that I believe it's not allocated. Please don't try it to check that though… :-o <strong>

**Anyway, it's now *checks corner of screen* 5.20 am and I realise I got a bit carried away with the length of this chapter. Time for some sleep and I hope I don't wake up to find I missed too many mistakes have slipped through my tired proof read. **

**If any have, please be lenient. I'm tired and this is un-beta'd so hey: I do own something! I own the mistakes.  
><strong>

**Take care**

**BE Fxx**


	7. Angie

**Hello my lovelies! I'm back again. So far I'm finding I can juggle updating regularly with a full time job and a semblance of a social life (even if it's slightly at the detriment of my sleep and my mother's sanity).**

**Today I found out that my ex's video, which I had a small part in and helped with the storyboarding, won a competition. I'm almost overloading on warm and fuzzies lately.**

**I was not able to turn down the offered $200 share in the prize money which will go nicely towards replacing my missing laptop (which was stolen while we were filming) :-)**

**So it turns out Karma is my friend after all.**

**Aaaaanyway, some more characters pulled into this one, more filler. And because not every day can be warm and fuzzy, Naomi's having a difficult day at work. With bigger responsibilities comes more stress. I'll try to update soon with something more interesting.  
><strong>

**Oh by the way, I went back and corrected my horrid typos in the previous chapter – thanks everyone for not picking fault at them and focusing instead on the loveliness that is Naomily.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Skins, but I wouldn't kick it out of bed for eating crackers.**

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><p><em>Fuck's sake! For a Friday this day's got knobs on it!<em>

I secured my bike to the gate post on the corner and marched up to the office slowly. After a night like last night this was the last thing I wanted to be doing. Wasn't I supposed to be skipping through fields or breaking into song at cartoon bluebirds on my shoulder? That's if you believed those rom-coms or musicals. But I guess mum's rants about mass-consumerism and the media magnates had instilled a more than healthy cynicism in me.

Instead I had woken up to a splitting headache as I recounted the number of standard drinks I had ingested. _Not fair._ And to make matters worse, this was going to be one of the most important work days I had met with so far.

I reached the fourth floor and passed Kieran's office on my way down the hall.

"Holy mother of divine shite! Who makes up this shit?"

He was bent over under his desk, grumbling to himself and wrestling with cables, with an instructions manual open next to him. Obviously I wasn't the only one struggling today. Still I knew better than to intervene so I walked on by swiftly, thankfully unnoticed. _Mad as a March Hare that one! He and my mother were truly a good, if not a little scary, match._

I sat at my computer and reached feebly into my desk drawers for some paracetamol. When the machine had booted up I saw there was already an email in my inbox waiting for me. I clicked on the message and read:

_From: Angie Morris [mailto: .com]  
>Sent: Friday, 14 October 2011 7:45 AM<br>To: Naomi Campbell  
>Subject: Arnolfini Poetry Slam Column<em>

_Naomi,_

_I'm assuming Kieran told you that you would be covering the reading at the Arnolfini.  
>If he didn't, I'm going to kill the bastard because that would leave me proper fucked and that's the last time I do him a fucking favour…<em>

_Still; it's 1200words, the deadline is 3pm so I will need your first draft by 12.30 for review.  
>I hope you live up to the draft I saw on Monday. If it's as good as that one was we should both still be employed next week. <em>

_Regards, _

_Angie Morris  
>Editor, Arts and Entertainment Dpt.<br>Bristol Evening Post_

I let out the sirocco that filled my lungs and opened a fresh document. My notebook by my side, I flicked through the pages to find a good starting place. That's when it dropped out from between the pages. The little yellow post-it note with Emily's scrawl and the two little paper kisses staring up at me like the memory of the two real kisses we had shared at Sans-Souci.

I pulled out my phone and stared blankly at the smaller screen instead. I hadn't messaged the night before because I didn't want to come across like a drunken 'stage-5 clinger' but now I realized I didn't even know where to start.

I had fallen asleep hours after being dropped home, to the sounds of Rufus Wainwright's melodic arrangements. Dreaming of Emily and her hands set upon my hips. Her lips on mine and the gentle aroma of chocolate and Irish cream cut with smoke. How comfortable I had felt in her arms despite my mental ramblings leading up to that moment. Her acceptance of my presence, standing close enough to really see me, take in who I was and what I had to give. Unwavering affection in that first kiss, she had taken the leap for me.

That first contact had shocked me to my core. Like a real electric shock, when the current hits you without warning. None of that buzzing through your body bullshit; no this was a loud and instant crack. One that hits you in the face and bolts carelessly through you searching earth. Leaves you glued to the spot as it completes the circuit and the point where it made contact stings like a lash from a whip. I knew that from experience, I had been zapped before. But nothing could have prepared me for the shock I received last night.

Still that second kiss had soothed the pain in my lips and other parts but ignited smaller electric fires as it grew more searching. _Damn Katie! If it wasn't for her dropping me home, I really had reason to dislike that twin as much as I was starting to like Emily._

I slept on, my imagination filling in the blanks of what my experience could not provide. When I had woken up after far too little sleep, my head was pounding but the music was still softly playing.

My fingers moved slowly against the screen as I attempted to shake away the smoky haze that clouded my mind. I typed out a few pathetic options before I arrived at something not too lame:

_I love 'Cigarettes and Chocolate Milk'  
>The track I mean. Thanks again for the loan.<br>Nxx_

I hit send. _There! That wasn't so hard. _Then why did I feel like it wasn't good enough?

I set about typing up something for this dreaded column, anything really, just to get rid of the white page. I could go back and edit later. I always did.

A few minutes later my phone buzzed contentedly on the desk.

_I'm not talking 2u.  
>My lip is still sore where u bit me.<br>Besides, what took u so long?  
>E<em>

I snickered at the message, causing Rebecca to look at me from the next desk along. I pressed my lips together and looked down, typing up a response.

_Toughen up Princess!  
>How did you sleep?<br>Nxx_

Not even a minute went by before she fired back.

_I'm sseriousth ;-) See!  
>You've made me lisp like Katie…}<br>Slept well. U?  
>E x<em>

My aching mind went through a quick play by play of how I'd actually slept – or rather, as the case may be, _not_ slept. Typing up another paragraph of the column seemed like a worthy distraction. I got back to my phone when I had formulated.

_Yeah, slept fine.  
>Woke up with a bitch of<br>a hangover though.:-(_

Fine! So I hadn't really slept fine. I'd spent most of the night dwelling on thoughts of what could be. It's not like I was playing this up to be more than it was. I knew not to expect the world from someone you'd met less than a week ago. I knew people usually disappoint you. Again, I knew that from experience.

So I had chosen to lie and keep my cards close to my chest. It wasn't a big lie. I just thought it was probably wiser not to tell the girl who had only just kissed me that I had spent important hours I should have been sleeping fantasizing about her. She wasn't the first girl I had kissed. I'd gotten over that hang-up in college.

But this still felt different. Like somehow, in that moment we'd shared a smoke outside, we'd shared a bit more. She'd looked straight into my eyes and I had to force myself not obey my natural instinct to turn away. My thoughts were fighting their way to the surface, saying _I'm not sure, but want to know you_ and her eyes had said _I understand._

I returned to the article and hammered away another paragraph. Gulping back another glass of water to quell the rioting nerves I re-read what I had so far. _What utter drivel! _

I looked down at my hands and nails, or rather lack thereof. There would be even less of them by the end of today. That's when Emily's next text arrived.

_Aww… Now who's being a Princess?  
>Ur too straight laced.<br>Can't hold your drinks.  
>I'll have to train u.<br>BTW how's the column going?  
>E x<em>

Maybe sending an email to Angie asking for an extension on account of my contending with the three competing issues of deadline stress, hangover from hell and flirting by text with a cute redhead wouldn't be the wisest of career choices. So I heeded Emily's advice and manned up. I culled about a paragraph and took another pass at Krispin's reading. But not before sending through a reply.

_So you're talking to me now?  
>Finding it hard to focus.<br>Nxx_

Her answer came straight back:

_K, I'll stop distracting u.  
>E x<em>

_.  
><em>

_No! I didn't mean you,  
>the headache :-P<br>Only 250 words in.  
>Nxx<em>

_._

_R U allowed to direct quote?  
>Might make up a few words.<br>E x_

_.  
><em>

_Ha! Ha! Very funny… 278 now.  
>Doesn't help that I keep deleting crap.<br>Nxx_

_._

_Well that's because ur a perfectionist.  
>And don't bite your nails!<br>E xo_

.

Well, for someone I'd only met 6 days ago, the girl had an uncanny grasp of my vices.

I removed my left hand from my mouth.

Letting out another large sigh, I decided to make up for my delayed first message by being a bit bolder.

_What are you doing tonight?  
>Wanna catch up?<br>Nx_

I had to restrain myself from biting my nails even as I waited to hear back. Thankfully she didn't keep me waiting too long.

_Can't :-( Sorry.  
>Got rehearsal for the gig tomorrow.<br>Soooo not ready!_

Of course! _Fuck! _Too bad. Although that did save me from the dread of having to come up with something to do and stay interesting for the length of another conversation. How had I even managed to convince her I was worth it last night? But that didn't really matter now. I had, and my goal was to make sure I could keep her.

Before I had answered though she had sent another.

_Tomorrow morning tho?  
>Boys are busy with their girlfriends<br>So no practice.  
>E x<em>

I think I squealed a little. Rebecca cast me another glace from her corner so I quickly replied:

_Deal! Pick you up at  
>Sans-Souci at 9.30<br>Nxx_

I tucked my phone back into my bag and returned to the column. After another hour I had knocked off another 800 words. Lara appeared at my desk with a sandwich and a cup of tea.

"Thought you could do with some nourishment, seeing as you will probably have your nose to the grindstone 'til 3."

"Thanks Lara. You're a legend, you know that?"

She smiled impishly "Tell that to the guys I've been wasting exorbitant babysitter's fees to go on lackluster dates with."

I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep the plot under wraps.

Another hour later and I had what could almost be reasonably deemed a first draft. I read through my efforts, dotted my i's and crossed my t's and sent off an email to Angie.

In quite a timely fashion, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out, expecting just a confirmation from Emily. It was Effy instead.

_I know ur at work. Can u talk?  
>What happened to u last nite?<em>

I hit the call button.

"Hi Eff, I got home with Katie and Cook. What about you though?" I paused, then added "You dirty stop-out!"

"Fine, so I stayed the night. But I meant before you left. After I grabbed that smoke off you, I saw you sharing one with Emily and then you disappeared…"

As usual, despite being tongue-deep in her dance floor activities with her new boyfriend, Eff had been observing. And she had been watching me with Emily. I calculated the odds of my being able to pull the wool over her eyes about what happened after that. They were not good.

"Em and I went to change the music and we argued about cover versi-"

My best friend cut me off "Naomi, cut the crap. Are you forgetting I spent the night there? Emily was a very chirpy little toaster this morning. She's not a morning person. Something happened."

_Busted._

"If I said _no,_ would I regret it?"

"Probably, but not because of me."

"We're objects of lust." I offered as confirmation.

I could hear her smile through the phone. "See you at the gig, Naomi." And the bitch hung up on me.

A little while later Angie appeared at my desk holding my printed draft.

"So, uhm…" said the woman "It's good, for a first draft." Her grey eyes darted furtively between the paper and me from under her fringe. "Anyway, I've marked it up. Some changes here and there, nothing you can't do before 3."

She dropped the paper on my desk and turned on her heels. Just before disappearing out of view she spun around and cast back at me. "Good work Naomi. Thank Kieran for both of us."

I looked down at the sheet in front of me and the headache came flooding back.

_A few changes? I wonder what this would look like if it wasn't 'good work'. _

I threw down a couple more paracetamol and buckled down to the task, emerging only when I had completed the re-write. Angie's email to my second draft was a single line.

_'Good. That'll print. Now go enjoy your Friday.'_


	8. Emily

**So Naomi's reward for her hard work on Friday despite the headache and distractions is a brunch date. And your reward for reading and chosing alerts and favoriting is… more Naomily.**

**Special thanks go out to DRD4Exonlll7Repeat, 21 , phantomfundraiser, daniethegirl, bebrave, HyperFitched, utterchaos, lozren, skinsfan, anne and BringingGeekyBack** **for your lovely, lovely reviews. They make my day.**

**I think my colleagues are convinced I have a new crush because I flinch every time my phone alert goes off and I must visibly gush when I read your words.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Skins, but I wouldn't sue the pants off it for sexual harassment… well, on second thoughts… maybe I would ;-)**

* * *

><p>I had great difficulty getting coherent directions to Sans-Souci from Panda. Foolishly I had not been paying attention to the turns we took in the dark on Thursday night and despite a surprisingly good sense of direction, my well-meaning friend was regrettably not the best at giving instructions on how to get there. To his credit, Thomas had stepped into translate Pandora-speak into usable directions to the share-house.<p>

I had ignored Angie's instructions to 'enjoy my Friday' and chosen instead to catch up on some much needed sleep if I was going to be at all lucid for the duration of brunch and stay up late enough for that night's gig.

So, directions in hand, I made my way to Sans-Souci in my trusty old car. When I got to the front door I rapped twice and the door swung open almost immediately. I was greeted by the sight of Emily in an oversized grey T-shirt and silk boxer shorts. My breath hitched for a moment and I froze with my fist still firmly clenched up in place.

The redhead gave me a goofy grin and skipped back off, talking over her shoulder.

"Hi Naomi! Come in, make yourself at home, I'm not quite ready… as you can see."

I was utterly nonplussed; regaining control over my limbs I lowered my hand and gulped quietly before stepping in. I followed her lead, climbing the stairs near the entrance to an upper landing. From there she turned left through a doorway and we found ourselves in a small sitting area with another door leading off it and a very steep set of stairs leading to a mezzanine loft above.

"Welcome to my den, have a seat." she offered as she climbed the steps three by three with familiar ease.

I dropped into a tie-dye beanbag and observed my surroundings. Tucked away where it was under the roof, the space had no real walls or ceiling but rather sloping eaves with exposed timber beams. The modest lounge was decorated with old movie posters and polaroid photographs along with the odd black and white framed sketch.

Along the only vertical wall, the one with the door we had just come in, was an old upright piano with a collection of shoes lined up haphazardly underneath. A guitar case leaned comfortably against the side of the instrument.

I noticed that the other door in the room was cracked open and a trail of damp footprints seemed to have been freshly made, leading out from the opening to a large antique armoire. I guessed that the furniture must have been left there by JJ's parents.

Emily's voice floated down from the mezzanine. "Freddie and Eff are in his garage working on a photography project. The others are all out."

"Oh" was all I managed.

Soon enough she came down the stairs again in the green sundress she had been wearing on Sunday. Her hair was still wet and matted back behind very small seashell ears. When she reached my level she pulled me up out of the beanbag with surprising upper body strength. Ironically though she then had to stand on the tips of her bare toes to peck me on the cheek.

When she released me she kept her arms around me and leaned back. "Hi" she grinned again.

"Hi" I returned. We stared quietly at each other for a while.

It was Emily who broke the silence "So where are you taking me?"

I bit my lip "I thought we could go to this place I usually ride to in the area. The Coode Street Deli, do you know it?"

"Heard of it but never tried it. Sounds great! Lead the way." She ran her hand down the length of my arm and interlaced our fingers. As we passed the doorway, she scooped up a pair of mary-janes and a canvas handbag with her free arm.

During the drive over, Emily poked fun at the movable parts of my car. Admittedly they were parts that, in any other car, would have been fixed but I argued that these were optional features for added flexibility of usage.

"How old is your car?" she asked with a fake look of concern.

"17 Years old" I explained "but in Agatha years that's 68. It's a factor of 5, sorta like dog years."

"Agatha years?" she knitted her brow and I stayed my eyes on the road as best I could to ignore how ridiculously fucking beguiling she looked when she was perplexed.

"That's her name: Agatha Christie. After the license plate... AGC. She behaves just like a little old lady with attitude, moody but ultimately reliable. I've had her 4 years and I love her. Also, she'd appreciate if you stopped making fun of her."

Emily giggled. "Right'o! I'll keep my tongue in check then. Wouldn't want to offend Agatha." She rolled her eyes for my benefit.

When I pulled up along the side of the Deli, Agatha shuddered violently to a stop. Emily snorted into her hands. I eyed her suspiciously but she held my stare.

"So that was in no way a death rattle then." she teased.

"Nope, she always does that, she's just happy we're here."

"Well so am I" said Emily and she carefully locked and closed her door.

I led us past the bright yellow side wall of the old building, explaining its history to Emily as we walked. On the windowless wall, in black paint, was a messy graffiti. I told her the place was once a real delicatessen which sold fruit and veg, cereals, dairy and baked goods to the otherwise residential neighbourhood. When the new owners had bought it there was a previous graffiti along the side wall that read '_My nightly lust has flowered into my days; my desire to paint the town is now insatiable._'

"That's rather elaborate" said Emily.

"But true" I countered.

During the first renovations, the owners had painted over the tag in the original yellow colour and given the rest of the building a fresh coat. Only a week later, the culprit had returned and branded the same patch of wall '_and thus my lust continues_'. They had left it there. It was now part of the place.

Along this wall was a row of bicycles and the crowd of serious morning riders was already gathered at the outside tables in their lycra uniforms.

The aged floorboards at the entrance were warped and bowed with the weight of the sacks of grain being dragged across the worn stone threshold. The internal walls had been painted a soft charcoal colour and buttercup yellow accents and shelves to match the exterior.

The ceiling space was cooled by an elaborate belt-operated fan system, visible to the eye and cream coloured round paper lanterns of all different sizes hung down between them at various heights.

We walked up to the makeshift counter which had been assembled out of old citrus boxes with a polished timber plank on top.

"Naomi love! Not riding today?" called the rather camp chef from around the corrugated iron clad kitchen partition.

His partner scoffed from behind the register. "Don't be silly Tim darling! That bike of hers couldn't carry two people if she wanted it to. Even two people as small as... I'm sorry dear" he looked at Emily "what's your name?"

"Emily" she smiled warmly at Emmett.

"Well it's lovely to meet you Emily, honey. Now, what can I get for you girls?" He rubbed his hands on a dishtowel and grabbed a pen from behind his ear. "_I can_fry_you__, __poach you__, __scramble you__, __do you any way you like._"

We quickly chose our eggs and coffees from the daily blackboard above Emmett's head and made our way to a free exterior table.

When we sat down waiting for breakfast, we relaxed into breezy conversation which lasted until Emmett brought our plates to the table. Finally I couldn't contain my curiosity any more.

"You know, I assumed you were straight."

"I gathered that" she retorted "You seemed to buy that JJ was my boyfriend until I set you straight on that one too."

"Well it's just the convention, isn't it? Society conditions us to assume that heterosexuality is the norm unless otherwise indicated. Makes it kinda hard to hit on someone of the same sex." I flicked my index across my nose nervously. "Not that I do a lot of... hitting" I added anxiously.

Emily chuckled and tucked into her full breakfast. "True, but you should meet my friend Maxxie. It's harder for him because of the stigma with gay men. Although luckily in the dancing profession he's safer than he'd be in the construction industry."

I nodded.

"Besides, you're _way_ more straight-laced than me" she prompted "and if you'd only asked around, people would have told you I was out."

"Wouldn't that have been a tad stalkerish?"

"Hmm... maybe yeah!" she laughed quietly. "Anyway, I maintain I was the one taking the biggest risk the other night. But I took the plunge anyway." She beamed.

"Well I'm glad you did." I gave her my best attempt at an encouraging smile which she returned sincerely.

After a pause I ventured "So you're out?"

"Yeah. I didn't see the point in keeping it repressed. I mean, it's not like I went screaming it on the rooftops. There's pride and there's just plain foolish. But I didn't hide it. My mum was the one who took it the worst. That's why JJ took me in when she kicked me out."

I couldn't believe my ears. "Shit, she kicked you out?"

"Let's just say it was mutual. We used to have weekly family dinners and Katie would bring a different boy most weeks before she settled down a little with Cook. Dad kept asking me why I didn't bring a boyfriend of my own. So one day I brought Mik, my first girlfriend, to the dinner and we had a huge row."

Her voice wavered a little but she pressed on.

"Mum told me she wouldn't stand for it and I could take my 'deviant friend' elsewhere to eat but not in her house. So I told her to shove it up her tits and the next day I returned to move my stuff out. Thankfully the loft was already furnished so all I took was clothes and personal bits and pieces, and my beanbag. Katie helped me move my stuff and stood by me... Can't say the same for Mik."

Emily lowered her eyes and swallowed. She had put down her cutlery and started playing the silver ring around her thumb.

"I'm sorry, was that an over-share?"

I reached across the table and took her hand tentatively. She stilled her fidgeting and looked up at me. I shook my head slowly and smiled. Her pleading eyes continued the conversation that mine had started under the veranda at Sans-Souci: _You said you wanted to know me. _

I gently stroked the back of her hand with my thumb and she seemed to relax again.

With her hand still in mine she added aloud "Anyway, Katie's been great. She teases me and keeps insisting I still haven't met the right guy, but I know deep down she's just... well... being Katie. She lets me know how mum and dad are doing regularly and since my brother James has started uni he's been able to come to visit me more often."

"Wow, that's a pretty big family. It was just mum and me for a long time. Now Kieran, her partner, has moved in and I'm living with Thomas. But the transition was not nearly as dramatic as yours. It was just time, you know?"

It was Emily's turn to nod.

"Mum's the radical one in our family. You're right: I'm more 'straight-laced', if you want to call it that. She's a total hippy; saving the world one lentil at a time." I shrugged and returned to my food.

"Kieran proposed to her last year but she said she wouldn't buy into an institution that shunned half the population on account of sexual preference," I felt a surge of pride as I remembered mum's stand "so they're living in sin. And it suits them, they're a living cliché."

"Sounds like a nice cliché." Emily offered.

I had to agree.


	9. Pandora

**I'm going to apologise right out of the gate here: this chapter is almost pure self indulgence. I intend for a bit more plot to come but I couldn't help myself in setting the scene, letting the girls get to know each other a little better.  
><strong>

**Disclaimer: I will never own Skins, although one day I hope to have something of my own, before the shit hits the fan.  
><strong>

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><p>We finished our eggs and walked back to the car hand in hand. It seemed so simple, too simple. I felt like Emily was not just letting me be myself, she was expecting me to. Anything less would have been an insult in the face of her candour. Nothing ever came this simply to me. I could love Gina for her brave stands against homophobia but hadn't had the courage myself to let her in on my own inner feelings. What a hypocrite I was!<p>

Luckily Emily hadn't pressed me on the matter because I wasn't sure I could have lied to her. My flimsy excuse for not telling my mother all this time had been that there was nothing to tell. I had only ever dated men and, though it was never with any success, my only experience with a woman was short-lived and chalked up to college experimentation.

Mum knew nothing of Sophia, because I had always told myself that if I met someone I really wanted to be with I would want mum to know. But Sophia and I were never like that. It had been one very drunken and slightly awkward night with no strings attached. She had initiated it and I had lowered my guard. Alcohol was the perfect excuse. I'm pretty sure I had just laid there!

After a thawing period, we had mutually agreed to be just friends. But I would have been a coward if I didn't at least admit to myself that, while the alcohol had provided me with the perfect pretext to let Sophia in, I was letting something else in that night.

"I'm nervous." Emily whispered, waking me out of my reminiscence.

_Me too, _I thought "About what?" I said instead.

"The gig. I still don't feel ready, and this is our first real headlining gig." She shifted uneasily in her seat. This wasn't some false modesty, her nerves were palpable. "I slept like shit last night thinking about it."

I wished I could help. Cute as it was, I didn't like seeing her nervous demeanour after witnessing snippets of her underlying bold strength. Then an idea occurred to me.

"I might have a suggestion to get your mind off it..." I mused aloud.

"Oh really?"

Over-thinking-Naomi hesitated a moment. I looked into Emily's warm eyes and decided to throw caution to the wind. Time for me to take a small leap.

"I just so happen to know someone who gives an excellent massage. Makes you forget all your troubles for a moment, or so I'm told. It's not far. Are you game?"

"I'm willing to try." Her mouth curled into a hesitant smile.

"Great! I think Panda's at work today. She'll be thrilled to see you."

Emily rubbed her hand along the side of her neck and exhaled "If she's half as good as you make her out to be, I'm sure I'll be glad to see her too."

Agatha got us to the Yogalates studio unscathed and I walked Emily to the side desk where Paul informed us that Pandora would be free in 15 minutes. We sat against the wall on the sprung floor and waited for Panda to finish with her previous client.

"What about you? You seemed keen to dob me in for a massage; are you even getting one?"

I shook my head "No, to be honest, I have this hang-up about people touching my neck. It's weird I know. But it's something I feel is too intimate a gesture and I don't let anyone do it. It makes me uncomfortable..." I trailed off. "Anyway, I'm not the one who needs to release some tension."

Emily opened her mouth to protest but Pandora came around the corner from the back door, ushering a rather blissful and sedate looking older woman back to the light.

"Oh, blimey! Naomi! It's great to see you here. Has Thommo finally convinced you?"

"Sorry Panda, no dice. But Emily here is in need of one of your best." I winked at her and she bounced a little on the balls of her feet before reaching out for Emily's hand and pulling her up eagerly.

Emily eyed me over her shoulder with a slight look of panic and I followed the two of them down the ramp into the small back room, mimicking the redhead's helpless grimace. The room was modest in size but overwhelming in every other way. It put me vaguely in mind of a torture chamber, not that I'd spent much time in any of those... I could only imagine.

There were no windows. On the ceiling there were two steel bars mounted at shoulder width apart with a red strip of fabric tied to each of them for back-walks. A massage table, similar to the one Pandora lugged around in the back of her van for remote appointments, was set up in the centre of the room and a corner was sectioned off with curtains for people to change.

Panda handed Emily a small white towel with a Velcro strip for fastening and the smaller girl turned behind the curtain to get ready. My eyes wandered over the objects set on a low shelf near the massage table. A burning stick of incense gave the whole room a heady atmosphere. Many oils and hand-labelled bottles I could not make out were lined along the shelf. There were even a few wooden contraptions with dimpled surfaces or rotating parts which made a slight shiver run down my spine.

"You right in there Ems?" I questioned when she hadn't emerged after a few minutes.

"Pay no attention to the girl behind the curtain." She snapped back and we heard more rustling of fabric before she came out holding her hands across her towel clad chest and looking down at her bare feet.

She looked smaller then than she even had holding that guitar. Her eyes darted from Pandora, to me, to the table. This was a ridiculous idea; I had made her more nervous than she'd been in the car.

"Up you get" chirped Panda, and Emily clambered onto the table, tugging at the towel to make sure it continued to cover her thighs as she hoisted herself up. Just before Panda threw a large sheet over her, I made out two small lines of dark cursive script on the flat of her shoulder blade. Emily pushed her face against the purpose-made hole in the table and huffed a little, splaying her arms off the table under the sheet.

"And no happy endings, right Ems." Pandora added brightly.

I blushed.

She rubbed her hands together to warm them and motioned with a nod for me to sit in a chair near the door. I reluctantly did as I was bid and watched her brush her palms over Emily's tiny supine form.

First she ran her hands down the length of the redhead's back and across her shoulders a few times. Standing over Emily's head, she pushed her lucky hands all the way down the girl's arms repeatedly. Then, balling up her fists, she placed one on either side of Em's neck and worked a vibrating rhythm in small circles.

Panda smiled at me with all the innocence in the world and continued her ministrations. My eyes found their way up the curve of Emily's calves to where they met with the sheet. Her milky skin barely contrasted with the cloth in the warm glow of the room.

I closed my eyes and wished again that there were a goddamn window nearby. I shrugged off my jacket and crossed my legs. The room was quiet but for the gentle rustle of skin on fabric upon skin.

A sigh would have been audible; then again, maybe I did anyway. I can't be sure.

A few minutes passed, could have been an hour, until Pandora's voice broke the heavy silence.

"I'm going to try some oils and stuff now Emily, if that's ok with you?"

A muffled "Uhuhmph..." came from within the table.

"OK, cool bananas. I'll just go get the right one." The sandy-blonde made her way quietly to the spot between me and the loaded shelves. She placed her warm palm discreetly on my knee and the index finger of her other hand to her lips. I immediately caught her drift. Pandora made more sense when she wasn't talking than when words were coming out of her mouth. I started to understand Effy's predilection for quiet observation. _Panda you total and utter fucking legend!_

She placed a small blue glass bottle in my palm and pushed me to the side of the table. I didn't resist. My head spun at the smoky balsam my friend had selected when I lathered up my hands and hesitantly pulled the sheet down. The oil smelled like lavender and sandalwood, along with something sweet I couldn't pick. I spread my fingers across Emily's shoulders and felt the muscles twitch slightly. Her skin was surprisingly warm.

My thumbs ran up the back of her neck on either side of her spine and traced each vertebra back down impossibly slowly, taking it all in. Small goose bumps started to form on her skin and I smoothed them over with my palms.

I heard the door open and shut softly behind me. Drawing in a deep breath, I rounded the table and stood at the head. Soft strokes and faintly daring rubs continued. I revelled in the warmth emanating from her small frame and the way she responded to the touch with shudders as I tried to suppress my own.

From my position looking down I could make out the writing on her shoulder a little better. Upside down, the letters curled between three silhouetted birds in flight, two larger ones off in one direction and one remotely smaller, headed towards her clavicle.

_Either peace or happiness,  
>Let it enfold you<em>

My left forefinger traced lightly over the words as I struggled to recall the much longer Bukowski poem. Something about trusting no man, and especially no woman. A passage about the world at the throat of the world, despondent and disillusioned (that's right: the turning point) _I welcomed shots of peace, tattered shards of happiness. I embraced that stuff like the hottest number, like high heels, breasts, singing, the works._

As my brain flickered erratically through the rest of words, the door creaked open and Pandora's nose pushed in through the crack. She craned her neck around the opening and found my eye line.

I nodded at her and she padded over to me before speaking to Emily.

"All done! Take your time getting up. Feel a bit better?"

I returned to my chair in without a sound.

"Much," came Emily's husky reply as her vocal chords were coaxed back into use "Thanks Panda."

She pushed herself off the table and I watched her strong back muscles tense with the motion and the ink words rippled over sinew and bone.

She returned behind the curtain without looking at me and came back out a moment later stretching and yawning. Em's fingers laced between mine and she brought my hand up to kiss the back of my knuckles while we followed Panda back up the ramp and into the daylight.

We paid Paul who would only accept half the price of a standard half hour. I guess Pandora hadn't really needed to work all that much for that one but thankfully Paul didn't let on. He had just brushed his thick dark locks back, winked at Panda and proclaimed "Mates rates: Panda's friends are my friends."

We returned to the car and the real world shook back into focus around us as we lurched forward. I glanced at the dash clock and made the usual calculation to account for it being permanently two hours and twenty four minutes slow.

"Em it's a quarter to three. Let me know if you need to get back to start getting ready."

She grumbled in protest and sunk into the passenger seat "Ugh! Yeah I wish I didn't, but I should..."

"Right ma'm, home it is." And I returned us to her place.

When I dropped her off at the door I explained I had to stop off at Gina's and speak with Kieran before getting myself ready and picking up Lara.

She spun on the spot and reached up to cup my cheek. "Ok, thanks again," she rose up on her toes again and brushed her thumb against the corner of my lips before kissing the spot "for breakfast" she kissed me again "and for the massage" she nibbled my bottom lip but I pulled back.

"You paid for the massage."

She squared to face me and put her fists on her hips "Naomi, I'm not a _complete_ idiot you know!"

"Hmm?" I murmured touching the spot her lips had just left.

"You weren't wearing gardenia scented hand cream at brunch, and I _can_ tell the difference between Pandora's and your shoes."


	10. Lara

**So I'm sorry it took me a bit longer for this update because I had this whole gig night planned out all as one chapter but I've come to split it to slow the pace. There is too much happening to keep it as just one chapter. Then got a bit writer's blocked towards the end and started to lose concentration. I was distracted by quite a full week. Dating, a funeral and a first birthday party all in the space of 7 days. They like to do that in TV Series don't they? Sex, death and babies in the same episode...**

**Anyway the gig night will now turn into two chapters, or three... possibly four... We shall see. There are 4 logical stages... You'll see what I mean. **

**Like the title suggests, this chapter gives some Lara backstory and hopefully some resulting insight into Naomi. This single POV exercise forces me to use the device of an original song to speak for Emily and peek into her psyche. I like that this has the added benefit though of letting Naomi see that with us too.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own skins but I do own a sketchbook half full of story notes and ideas.**

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><p>"Stop fussing Naomi, you look lovely!" said Lara as she pulled my hand away from the hem of my dress for the third time.<p>

I didn't wear dresses very often. Actually, while I had upturned my closet looking for something suitable to wear to The Tunnels, it had become apparent that the only dresses I owned had been bought for specific work events and seldom been worn more than once. I just didn't see the point in dressing up to impress. I prefer to be comfortable. Also it has always seemed more important to me to have substance rather than flash.

So why was I suddenly worried about how I looked? Why did it now matter what other people might think? The answer was obvious to me, and it would be to Effy too. But I didn't want it to be obvious to anyone else. Panda already seemed to have cottoned on. Perhaps Effy had let her in. Those two had struck up quite the camaraderie.

I had picked Lara up from her place once I had settled on an outfit and waited with her for the late arrival of Albert's babysitter. Seven year old Albert had been the defining element in her life from the time she had him. At age 17 while I was still worrying my days away trying _not_ to fit in at college, she was forced to grow up hard and fast. Her parents hadn't exactly been supportive of her 'little accident' as they called it. So she had moved in with her grandparents, left college and taken on a second job. This seemed to just be part of her now although to me it corroborated my theory of people eventually letting you down, first the father, then her parents._ Unconditional love? I fucking think not. Some people just don't have it._

Despite now having settled down to a single steady job at the paper with us and being one of the most together mothers I know at the age of 24 – not that Gina was the most stellar example for comparison – the girl still looked barely 18.

It had gone without saying that raising Albert had put a serious damper on Lara's social life and the few men our age that she actually did meet had lived down to expectations and turned and ran at the mere mention of a bub. Hopefully tonight would be different though. I had high hopes for JJ living up to his refreshing first impression of being nothing like any of the other guys our age.

When we walked in to The Tunnels, the support act was playing. I scanned the room but there was no sign of the _Odd Sorts _musos_. Probably getting ready in the back, _I thought. I made one last move to smooth my dress down over my legs again and tucked my hands deep into the front pockets.

"Ok, ok," I said, shaking my head at Lara and rolling my eyes, "I'm just not used to wearing dresses."

We moved to the bar and I bought us each a beer before ushering Lara to the corner table where the others were already waiting for us. Cook shuffled up the bench seat and stretched his free arm out to beckon us. I sat in the spot he had vacated and Lara perched on a free chair Tony had pulled up for her. I did the introductions.

'Naomi! Top work, man!' announced Cook. "Bringing more cuties to the table. You're always welcome as long as they're young and willing. Although I'm flexible on the young... and the wi-"

The back of Katie's hand collided with Cook's chest with impressive force and he choked back the rest of the word while the rest of us roared with laughter.

"What the actual fuck, babes!" the girl spat in outrage.

"Alright, alright Katiekins," he rubbed his sternum with his fist "no reason to maim a man. I was jus' welcoming Lara to the fold."

"It's ok Cook;" Lara interjected "Naomi has already filled me in on the way over. I wouldn't touch you with a ten foot barge pole. Just sayin'. So you don't have to worry Katie."

Cook gave her what I had begun to recognise as his usual grin of approval "Nice one Mischief. Touche!"

"I think you mean _'touché'_ Cook" corrected JJ.

"Irrelevant Jaykins, but thanks man, keep the lectures for your students."

Lara smiled demurely at JJ and added, focusing back on Cook "Besides, there's already a gorgeous young man in my life."

"Oh yeah? Well where is your fellow? The more the merrier." Cook pressed in earnest.

Lara smiled patiently "He's too young to come out."

This prompted confused looks from the group. It was JJ who broke the silence.

"Albert is 7. His maths and verbal skills are already beyond yours Cook. He's second top in his class."

Cook looked even more confused. Only this time so was I.

"How are you Miss Lloyd?" JJ directed at Lara. "I haven't seen you since the midterm parent-teacher conference."

Lara blushed a little "I'm well thanks JJ, but I've already told you to call me Lara."

JJ looked down at his beer as if he wished it could swallow him instead of the other way around. His loose curls fell around the front of his face. _Of fucking course! _Lara had told me she was thankful for one man in hers and Albert's life and that was Albert's third form teacher. She had mentioned her son loved his teacher and waxed lyrical about the magic tricks he performed for them when they succeeded in a task. Only I had imagined a greying and bespectacled grand-father figure with old-school methods. Someone with a flair for fascinating the young minds sparked from a desire to recapture his own youth. Could this be the most flukeishly insightful set-up in history?

The gang continued to watch on as JJ had frozen with his eyes fixed to his drink. Thankfully for him, just at that moment the stage roared into life again and Freddie's opening bass riff screeched dramatically with reverb. Everybody looked up in unison.

Only the boys were on stage, driving up the rhythm of a standard rock hook. The crowd had hushed and turned their full attention to the boys' confident display of showmanship. Soon after, Jal joined them on stage adding warmth to the sound with her sax and the lighting was amped up a notch to reflect this. _Not ready my arse! Emily you're as bad a perfectionist as me. _

Speak of the devil, the redhead sauntered casually onto the stage moments later with her old guitar slung over her shoulder. She looked the very image of cool, having opted for skinny jeans and leather Chuck Taylors with a black top which I guessed was on loan from Katie because it revealed more cleavage than the summer dress she was wearing earlier in the day. As she leaned into the microphone, a spotlight found each member of the band and lit up the stage causing howls from the audience. Her presence was undeniable. She looked in her element, completely at ease. There was nowhere else she wanted to be. The crowd seemed to agree with me and swayed imperceptibly from side to side as she crossed the stage, as if hypnotysed. She was a veritable snake charmer, bending her pliant audience to her will. A few older patrons got up to dance in a cleared area up the front. Something about her confidence seemed contagious.

After a couple of songs Cook squeezed out from between Katie and me to make his way to the bar. When he returned, he had to make a second trip with Tony to carry our 11 beers back to our crowded table.

The room started to swell with warmth as the alcohol and the bodies mingled. I looked around at Chris, Cassie and Effy, each of them with their eyes riveted to the low stage. Effy had her usual stoic look firmly in place but her lingering gaze betrayed her interest in Freddie. Cassie's eyes held a more vacant look but her mouth was turned up at the corners in a captivated smile.

Thomas simply looked on at Pandora who was leaning forward in her seat and grinning from ear to ear. Tony was straddling his chair with his right arm folded over the backrest in front of him. His fingers drummed lazily to the rhythm as he sipped his beer with his left, surveying the gang.

Lara had shifted her chair to sit next to JJ while Tony had been busy getting the drinks. They were now deep in conversation. That is to say: JJ was deep in conversation and Lara was nodding sincerely. The young man was gesturing emphatically as he demonstrated his argument and missed Cook's glass by a whisker. Once, twice, third time's a charm. The glass toppled over, spilling only dregs.

Cook leapt to his feet "Oops! Looks like next round's on my mate Jay here. C'mon old boy, I'll help you with the glasses."

A few more songs in, the pace shifted a little and Emily took to the stage solo for a slower tempo number. Pandora and Katie promptly dragged their respective beaux onto the makeshift dance floor.

Two scruffy youths pushed through the crowd of swaying couples, the scragglier of the two surreptitiously giving Katie's arse a quick grope on his way past. The older twin merely released Cook's neck for a second and shoved her elbow back with force, hitting the boy square in the ribs, before returning her hand to its original spot. The two boys laughed as they made a beeline to our table and perched on some vacated chairs. Soon the song came to an end and Panda kept Thommo in her eager clutches for the next one while Katie returned to the table with Cook.

"Oi, Worm! Keep your pervy mate in check." hissed Katie at the shorter boy as she approached. She smacked the back of his head playfully before turning to address the rest of us. "Everybody, this is my deviant little brother James and his heterosexual life partner Gordon. Ever heard of a watch, losers?"

"Shove off Katie," said the boy "At least we made it. Slacking off at Uni takes up a lot of time you know... but I promised Ems we'd be here."

Gordon chimed in "Wouldn't have missed it; chance to pick up some hot roadie chicks." We wriggled his eyebrows lecherously "So which of you lucky ladies is single?"

"Naomi and Lara are not interested in the likes of you two losers. Now be quiet, we're trying to listen to the band, yeah?" scolded Katie.

The band had gone into a thigh slapping cover of Bobby McGee which had drawn the older dancers back onto the dance floor. Gordon's hand made a move towards Lara but she swiftly grabbed JJ by the arm and pulled him out of his chair and into the pulsating mass of bodies. James looked my way but quickly recoiled in his seat from the 'not on your life' Campbell death-stare I shot at him. The two boys shrugged and just sauntered onto the dance floor together and proceeded to thrash around the couples and grind suggestively up against each other in jest. Seemed Katie had not been too far off in her choice of introductions.

Emily's voice was not quite as much of a match for this song as it had been for 'At Last' or their original tunes but they were giving the track an unpolished quality which suited it to a tee. I started to understand Emily's trepidations about the band being under-rehearsed. Freddie was slightly garbling the bass riff and Jal simply improvised a spontaneous solo between two of the verses. Ems relaxed into the chorus, mic in hand as she strode across the stage. She shook her head from side to side as she belted the words out. Slender strands of fiery red hair fell loose from her high bun and tangled around her cheeks. Her voice quivered and broke a little as the reprise came louder. She could have been singing karaoke. She could have been drunk off her skull. She was glorious. She was flawed, and so fucking beautiful.

When the song ended the crowd roared again as Freddie, Sid and Jal left the stage. Emily pulled a stool from the side of the stage and dragged it slowly to the front. Fixing her mic back to the required height, she perched and removed the capo from the neck of her old guitar. A thin sheen of sweat pearled on her brow but she didn't bother brushing it off. She chest rose and fell a little too fast from the exertion, barely visible behind the guitar. None of this seemed to faze her or wipe the serene smile from her face. She set about changing the instrument to an open tuning as we looked on.

That's when I saw her.

A tall, dark skinned girl stood at the front of the crowd of dancers. _Curiouser and curiouser..._

She was watching Emily. I mean she was _watching_ Emily. I know we were all watching her. But this girl was watching her with that certain undeniable look. Her eyes were saying what I had been fighting all night not to let mine say. She was mesmerised by the redhead and she was completely unashamed about it. Time seemed to still in that moment. The tuning must have continued, but I was stuck, staring at her staring at Emily.

I felt another gaze on mine, adding to our silent standoff. Though I didn't need to break my own hold on the dark haired mystery girl to know it was Effy fucking observing again, obviously.

_Naff off, Eff! I know, ok? _

Mercifully, softly strummed chords broke the face-off and I was forced to train my eyes back on the stage. I wouldn't miss this. She was finishing with an original ballad. The minor quavers tumbled out of the soundhole of her un-amped wooden surrogate and filled the space. The object in her hands became like a mouthpiece for her emotions which didn't need or dare be spoken. The fretboard was an extension of her fingers. The melody was simple and stripped back. The crowd of dancers had not resumed their movement, but they didn't return to their seats either. Conversations around the tables had ceased. As she began to sing the mortals merely looked on.

_Nothing can quell it for me I fear,  
>I almost wish something would.<br>Harsh voices, loud sounds,  
>Long days follow cold nights,<br>I don't care about much else  
>Probably as much as one should;<br>I've let her steal my focus  
>And willingly handed her my rights.<em>

_The light shines in through the mirror, a voice echoes in the glass box walls.  
>A pale imitation<br>For a poor consolation  
>This version is covered in rust, building up deeper as water falls.<br>_

_I followed but I arrived alone.  
>How well do you really know me?<br>I put it all out on the line,  
>I strive for the attention.<br>Coming back, always the same places  
>Are both foreign and familiar to see;<br>But there will always be a large rift  
>Between your recognition and affection.<em>

_Now the bed is empty,  
>as it has been for days.<em>

As the bridge ended and she rounded the chorus one last time, I wallowed in this new insight into her psyche. It scared the shit out of me that she should be able to reveal so much to so many. She could lay it all bare and strip back her veneer even for an instant. I was terrified beyond my wit that she could reveal herself with the utmost candour and humility. The idea that she had this outlet. This medium through which she could convey to me not just her history but how it made her feel. And she made me feel it as well. But could I ever be that open? My track record was not promising. It occurred to me then that this sort of relationship could only be one-sided. We could not aspire to any true sharing or connection – _Did I just call this a relationship? Whoa, steady on Naomi; don't get ahead of yourself!_ Still, sharing involved equality and communication. _Fuck me, I needed a fag!_

I didn't have time to dwell any further though. She finished and left the stage to thundering applause. The band didn't play hard to get for too long before each of them reappeared for an encore. Emily did the rounds of her bandmates with a sly grin as she told them her choice. The smirk on Sid's lips as he counted them in suggested they were going to have some fun with this one.

They launched into a cover of Patsy Cline's 'Crazy' that threatened to come undone at the seams.

She donned the character and affected the tremolo. False notes followed in more and more rapid succession as they worked through the chord changes. They knew they could get away with it. We were enjoying the pandemonium. Emily occasionally faltered on some lines or laughed shamelessly between others. She made direct eye contact with random members of the audience. Sometimes breaking her character and other times continuing the charade for them. Isolating them for a second or ten before returning, half dazed, to her more idiosyncratic and familiar distance from the audience. That which usually enabled her to let loose and abandon fear. Eyes closed and in her own little world, now she was emerging sporadically to interact with individuals. _Was she coming out of her shell? Was she drunk?_

When she the song eventually came to an end, _after what I think were a few additional choruses chucked in for good measure_; they all left the stage leaving their instruments in place. Unencumbered as they were, they managed a few curtain calls – without a curtain – and came out from backstage to meet us while the applause was still scattering through the venue.

The mysterious girl up front was the first to greet Emily on her way to our table. There was a hug and inaudible words were exchanged. I felt a small but sharp surge of jealousy return to its spot in the pit of my stomach where it had taken up residency earlier in the evening. In a matter of instants though the exchange was over and Emily completed her path towards us in uninterrupted.

I was the next in line to greet Ems and she slid her arms around my waist instinctively. I was grateful her instinct had dictated such a tame approach as to be inconspicuous. However I was not impressed to note the fluttering sensation in my loins caused by her touch. I struggled but managed to repress it and keep my face stoic. _I needed to take lessons from Effy. _Emily was sensible enough not to hold me too long and moved on to Katie, then James, then JJ and then the remaining others in succession dictated by proximity.

She was monopolised for the better part of half an hour. I overheard James congratulating her on her 'Lezzer Song' and telling her that her single friends were 'like, well fit!'

I needed to make this awkwardness go away, or I would betray myself. I needed some of that distance Emily managed to achieve on stage, only closing my eyes was not going to cut it here. So I created physical distance. I went outside and sparked up a fag. Brushing the back of my hand under my chin distractedly I scuffed my new shoes against the sidewalk repeatedly and almost mechanically. I lit up another and puffed away as I lost myself in thought. With that one finished I started to feel the cold and was reminded of the passing time. Upon returning inside I had decided to build a bridge and get over it. _'Best laid plans of mice and men'..._ _right?_

Emily came straight to me when she saw me return. She had dragged James and Gordon up alongside.

"I hear you've met Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum" she said with a slightly tired smile.

I was frozen for a moment at the realisation she had just referenced possibly my favourite book.

"Uhm... Yeah. Katie introduced us." and at that the boys wandered off again.

"Oh good... Well I've met Lara now. JJ introduced us!" she raised an eyebrow at me at that last comment.

_Oh fuck me again! That eyebrow could be the death of me!_

"Yeah..." I said again "turns out they know each other. JJ is her son's teacher. Some set-up, huh?"

"Actually, I think it's perfect!" she announced "They already have common ground but this gives them an informal venue to get better acquainted."

"Look who's using the big words now, Little Miss _Why-do-you-always-use-words-with-more-than-three-syllables-Naomi_?" I teased, quoting her own earlier mocking words back to her.

She laughed and checked our surroundings before quickly grazing my arm "Actually I was saying I _liked_ that about you. Well... that and your chronic_ I-don't-ever-want-to-shut-my-mouth-ism_!" She released my arm before anybody showed any suspicion and my heart resumed its beating.

We returned to join the rest of the gang as Thomas was gauging interest from the others.

"... so we are going out now, yes?"

Everybody either nodded or picked up their belongings so we made our way to the stage to help with the equipment in the knowledge that an unspoken consensus had been reached. I caught JJ's eye as we were wrapping up guitar and mic leads.

"So...?"

"She's absolutely lovely." said JJ.


	11. Cassie

**Writing this on rainy weekends is much easier than late-night typing after work and over-tired proofreads. More Naomily coming up soon now. I'm looking forward to it but unsure of the level smut/intimacy I can muster when they finally get down to it. I'm aiming for an M rating but you may have to be patient with me. And I'll apologise in advance if I offend anyone later who is choosing to read this so far because it's clean.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own skins but it owns my heart. It still makes me smile from ear to ear when I read your reviews. Keep them coming.**

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><p>It hadn't taken long to convince everyone to head to Cook's uncle Keith's late night restaurant for some dinner.<p>

The Moon was the type of place that had become a refuge for alternative weirdos by serving numbered cocktails in old jam jars and chemistry beakers. Cook led us down the alleyway to the stairs lit with paper lanterns. As we trampled down the stairs in our state of partial inebriation, the loud music enveloped us and guided us to one of the many large booths.

The hipster waiter who greeted us tossed several laminated album sleeves at us which turned out to be menus. He ran his hand through his mohawk while he waited for our drink orders. After briefly exchanged looks of indecision from all of us, Cook groaned in frustration and ordered up a full tray of tequila shots for starters. The waiter turned on his heels and returned behind the bar, giving us time to look at the tragically basic food selection.

"Oh wow!" squeaked Cassie "This is nice..."

Cook grinned at her over his menu "See something you like, tiny?"

"Oh no, no, me I'm fine. I not hungry, but I will watch you guys eat... You're so nice! I'm... fine." She rambled.

"It's OK, she can pick off my plate." said Sid. "Chips ok Cass?"

Our tequilas came and we ordered enough food and cocktails for the entire table. Cook counted us down and we shot the tequila. The liquid burned down my throat and settled in my stomach. I was going to need more alcohol than this to match the warm flush in my cheeks that had started the instant Emily had slid into the booth next to me. I wanted to be able to ignore it all, to maintain the level-headed facade I had worked my adolescence to perfect.

Sid's choice of words turned out to be an overstatement. Cassie merely picked up one chip from his plate and waved it around for emphasis as she spoke. She explained that Crispin's presence at the poetry reading was dictated by his dad running the main collection at the Arnolfini gallery. Apparently he had chosen the pseudonym Krispin - with the K - in anticipation of his future fame so he could maintain anonymity as Crispin. When she finished clarifying all this as plain fact without an ounce of malice or judgement, she placed the chip back on the edge of Sid's plate and that was it.

Cook and Katie fed each other pieces of Caesar salad, Katie's choice, off the same fork. James and Gordon had both ordered the biggest burger on the menu and tucked in without shame, which didn't surprise me. What did surprise me was that Emily had ordered the same burger and was making a good go of it. She had flipped the burger upside down before chowing into it. When I eyed her suspiciously, she had shrugged and explained that the top of the bun was never as soggy as the base so you got less sauce on your hands that way. I don't know if it was the skewed logic of her reasoning or the mischievous twinkle in her eye as she explained this kooky idiosyncrasy, but I was a goner.

As I dug into my pizza, crusts first, with knife and fork she elbowed me and returned the quizzical look.

"What?" I shrugged her off with a smile as she had done. "Blame my mum: Waste not, want not. I've eaten the crusts first since I was seven, so I can finish with the tasty part."

Emily laughed at me as she finished the last mouthful of her burger and wiped her hands on her napkin. She picked up her cocktail jar and took as large sip as she slid her free hand under the table and onto my knee. The breath caught in my throat and I inhaled my partially chewed mouthful I had been ready to swallow. Tony reached behind me from his seat and whacked me on the back several times as I choked noisily.

"Nice one Blondie!" said Cook "Next time remember to chew first."

I continued to cough but Emily's hand didn't leave my knee. "Sit on this and swivel Cook." I said in between coughs as I raised my middle finger vaguely in his direction.

Instead of rising to my hostility, Cook waved a waitress over to order more cocktails. The dreadlocked girl in Thai fisher pants looked around the table for any other takers. Tony, who hadn't ordered any food yet asked her for another Bloody Mary. Effy questioned her brother with a single look.

"Tomato, Lemon and Celery... Two fruit and one veg!" he explained "not to mention the all important Vodka."

"I'll have one of them too." I threw out instantly.

"Me too" added Emily.

"Me three" said Cook "but hold the lemon and the celery... oh, and the tomato juice." He winked at the waitress and she smiled politely as she left with our drinks order.

"Totally into me!" Cook commented.

"Never going to happen babes." said Katie "and the dreadlocks? It's hair suicide!"

"I thought she was well hot!" volunteered James.

Emily giggled and brought her hands up over the table facing up incredulously "Uhm... Guys, didn't you pick up on the signs? She's gay!" she advised them, as if this were patently obvious to anyone with eyes and half a brain.

"Bollocks!" yelled Cook, loud enough that the waitress looked up from the bar but she continued to prepare our drinks.

JJ tore his eyes from Lara for a second to weigh in "You should trust Emily on this one Cook. She has the best gaydar of anyone I know."

"Bonkers! How can you tell Ems?" pressed Panda "Is it the hair, no makeup, the short nails?"

"Nah, it's not about the obvious physical things. Stereotypes can be deceiving. The real sign was her checking out Naomi when she was taking Tony's order."

I must have gulped audibly and my throat instantly went dryer than Gina's day old nutloaf. _Where was my fucking drink?_

"She was not!" I protested.

"As if, Emilio!" Cook turned to Katie "Babes, permission to hit on the hot indie waitress to prove your sister wrong?"

Katie rolled her eyes but agreed "Whatever freaks!"

When the girl returned with our Bloody Marys and Cook's vodka he stopped her hand when she deposited his drink in front of him. He pressed his lips to the back of her hand and gave her his best shot when he was sure he had her attention.

"So what time do you knock off? I'm thinking later: you, me, a bottle of this stuff" he gestured at his vodka before downing it in one go "I can show you a good time."

"Oh really?" said the girl.

"Yeah, let's get together and feel alright." He waggled his eyebrows lasciviously. He was going for seductive but ended up looking like an overgrown child.

"Sorry mate; even if you _didn't_ have a girlfriend I wouldn't touch you. I prefer my pickup lines a little more tactful and my playmates less full of testosterone. It's not a goer."

"C'mon babes! You know you want it." Cook pushed his luck.

"Did I stutter?" said the girl.

"No but you haven't given me a chance. A little willy-waggle with me and you'll be singing a different tune."

"Fine, since you seem to only communicate in crude and to the point. I'll make myself clearer: Me not cock cruncher, me muff muncher! Clear?" She smiled and placed the rest of the drinks on the table. Cook stayed silent, his mouth hanging agape. I could tell he was not offended: he was impressed.

I grinned at him "Close your mouth Cook, we are not a codfish."

The waitress laughed and handed me my drink last. She surreptitiously slid a folded piece of paper under the glass in front of me. Emily pounced for it the minute the girl had left and tore it from my hands.

"Bingo! It's her number. I rest my case." She took a small bow in her seat and gave me back the paper. I crumpled it up before pushing it into my pocket.

"Well anyway, it's not like I'm going to call her. I'm not interested." I offered the group.

Katie laughed more warmly than I'd seen before "Uhm... I'm not being funny but... that's pretty obvious..." She looked over at her sister "You were right Emsy. Suck it Cook!" She then wrapped her arm affectionately around his shoulder and nestled her head into him. "Good thing I fell for your other charms."

"Fair dos, red" said Cook folding his arms across his chest. "You win this round short-stuff."

Gordon was in awe of that little exchange "That was ace Ems! I had no idea she was a dyke."

I had to admit, I had had no idea either. The whole thing had left my head reeling. Or maybe it was the alcohol. I couldn't be sure, nor did I really care. I wrung my hands under the table and took a deep breath. _Sod it! I was getting monumentally fucked tonight! _I reached for my drink, took a healthy five gulps and gripped the bench between Emily and I. That's when I felt Emily's small hand place itself reassuringly on top of mine. _Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! What in the fuck are you doing, Naomi? _I gritted my teeth together but liberated my index and wrapped it over hers hesitantly.

I saw her smile out of the corner of my eye, the small dimple in her cheek pushing towards her adorable beauty spot. And just like that her thumb did the same and crept over my index, squeezing a little.

I distantly heard James prattling on about how Gordon had taught him "they call them dykes because you have to stick your finger in them." I wasn't listening. Even when he yelped when I saw Emily's leg jerk towards him under the table; I wasn't really paying attention.

I tried to focus on snippets of conversation. Freddie and Effie were debating the benefits of using something called a daguerreotype for their next photography project. Lara and JJ were talking about the other mothers at school thinking she was too young to be a proper mum to Albert.

He was a little verbose in reassuring her but the boy made a good point. "Just remember that with age comes not necessarily wisdom and superiority but often condescension. The only true source of wisdom is experience and you have as much experience of being a mother as them."

"Good call Jay!" Emily slurred slightly "Lara, tell them to stick that in their pipe and smoke it!"

"Formidable, formidable!" was Thommo's response.

"My mum is an artist but she's not very good." Cassie offered "That still doesn't stop her from asking me twice a month to get her a spot at the Arnolfini. Even when I was growing up, it was always about her. Age isn't everything; I think you sound like a lovely mum Lara... "

"Aw, love is all around!" said Cook.

"So!" he rubbed his hands together gleefully "We're going out right? Fredster, that rave still going on tonight at the old Torre warehouse?"

Freddie nodded and the rest of the gang drained their glasses at once. All but Emily.

"Whaddya say Emilio, in or out? I mean we know you're _out_... but -" he beamed.

Emily's eyes flickered to me and I squeezed her hand to signal that it was ok.

"OK, sure." she husked and cleared her throat before downing the rest of her drink "What the heck; let's go!"


	12. Freddie

**OK, I've resolved to up the rating on this baby. You've been warned! **The next chapters may get a bit heated.** Thanks again to all the reviewers for your words of encouragement.  
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**Hats off to Lapiscat for recognizing the venue in the last chapter despite my admittedly modest efforts to adapt it to my liking. **

**Heartfelt thanks go again to Hyperfitched for your kind words of support. You're my hero. ;) Seriously I can't thank you enough.  
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**Disclaimer: I don't own skins but I do own every emotion I pour into this and every one I get out of your feedback.**

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><p>The walk to the warehouse was a raucous and messy convoy. Freddie alternated between matching his pace to Effy and surging ahead, pacing backwards and telling us about his guerilla filmmaker friends and street photographers who had organized the rave. Sporadically a member or two of the group would stumble awkwardly off the narrow footpath and snake back into the pack to the sound of drunken cheers from the rest. I strode ahead, flanking Effy and kept up the brisk pace to maintain the calming effect of the cool wind on my flushed face. Emily dropped back to Katie's side and wrapped her arm through her sister's.<p>

When we staggered to a halt on a dimly lit street on the outskirts of town, the 'Torre' loomed over us. The dilapidated building itself seemed as unruly as its already numerous invisible occupants. Its outside walls were a peeling blue oxide colour. A few of the upper leadlight windows had been shattered and all that remained of the original roof was no more than a few beams and stray sheets of cladding. The old 'Torre' sign above the roller door now only read 'TORR' as the 'E' had long been removed or fallen off. The only evidence remaining of it was the discoloured shape of the letter in the paint and a few rusty fixing points. The 'T' looked like it would go next but for now it was still leaning pitifully on the 'O'.

The throbbing bass could be heard and felt from the empty street. I shook my head in an attempt to reassure myself it was the alcohol making the street lights flicker and pulsate to the rhythm. It could have been. It could also easily have been that this area was truly as disaffected as the warehouse and the infrastructure itself was crumbling around us as the 'Torre' watched on. The ageing vestige of Bristol's unsustainable industrial past had now been recycled by our generation and nobody was around to protest.

We stepped off the street and into the living pulse. Inside the noise was almost deafening.

"Bloomin' heck, it's big in here!" exclaimed Panda over the din.

Unseen speakers spat out beats from thunderous dubstep to splitting grunge remixes. Freddie quickly found a friend of his in the front of the venue and introduced us to the now infamous Charlie.

Charlie was a tall but lanky young man, probably a few years older than us. He had an authoritative smile as he surveyed the proceedings and explained the layout to us. A felt hat sat askew on his head and his goatee was too scruffy to be called man-scaping but too conscious not to be considered a statement. He had a large camera around his neck which dwarfed his wiry frame.

While Charlie spoke, Effy had pulled out the little bag I had seen her procure from Cook earlier in the week and skinned up. Two joints got passed around the group and Charlie took a picture of some of us as we puffed away. The warm smoke was soothing in my lungs and I remembered the billows surrounding Emily's face that first night we'd shared a smoke.

Soon after, the group split up naturally and each of us found their comfort groove. Panda took Thomas exploring the rear rooms, wanting to find the speakers. Chris, Jal, Cook, Katie, Gordon and James were progressively absorbed into the crowd of dancers. Sid and Cassie shifted into the throng of bodies as well but he kept his eyes trained on her to make sure she wasn't jostled about as she stared transfixed at the absent ceiling.

Charlie led Effy and Freddie up to the metal gantry which wrapped around the internal walls; Freds pulled out a Polaroid and both boys started shooting away at the swarm below. Tony stalked the surrounds; watching, studying and carefully planning his next strategic move. JJ looked a little overwhelmed by the events unfolding so Lara ushered him over to a corner which was set up with hanging basket cane and rattan scoop-chairs, piles of beanbags and multicoloured inflatable armchairs. Emily followed their path with one eye to ensure her friend got safely to the more sheltered area.

No sooner had the last of them disappeared from sight that Emily flung her arms clumsily around my neck. This was exactly what I had meant when I had explained I didn't get massages earlier in the day. Although I had never really understood or bought into the concept of acupressure, the sheer power of it was crystallized in that moment when Emily touched my neck and I felt it in distinct _other_ places. But I let her.

Her lips found mine instantly. The kiss was chaotic and frantic at first and carried the weight of her small body as it came crashing into mine. I stepped backwards from the force and the shock. My eyes scoured the crowd for signs of faces I recognized but I saw none. As I relaxed into the kiss I felt Emily's fingers tangling in the hairs at the nape of my neck. I closed my eyes. I became aware of her slowing us down, aware of the smell of her perfume over the smoke, aware of her slightly quickened heart rate beating against my chest.

She regained control and pulled away excruciatingly slowly, keeping her arms around my neck and her eyes boring into mine. I couldn't see much in the dim space and her face appeared to be floating in front of me as it came back into focus. Her eyes swimming in a sea of red, her pupils dark and drowning her irises.

"I've been wanting to do that all night." she husked, barely audible over the deep frenetic thump of the song._ At least I think it was the song_.

My curling lips threatened to tear up my cheeks as she dragged me into the crowd in search of our dancing friends. The buzz I had worked up from the drink was now nicely sated by the spliff and I eased into the rhythm behind her. When we came level with Chris, Jal, Sid, Cass and Katie we fell into a comfortable trance, exchanging knowing smiles as we recognized riffs and hooks. The heady atmosphere was infectious.

Katie had explained as best she could in only a few words that Cook had meandered off as he sometimes did but she didn't seem bothered. She didn't seem bothered by very much at all at the moment in fact. Seemed wasted-Katie was a much mellower version of her usual wound-up weekday alter ego.

Emily's hands found my waist several times and several times I pushed them away as kindly as I could manage. The weed was lowering her inhibitions as it had mine, only now her reserve and self control I had been so grateful for earlier was starting to wane. My resolve was weakening too and I didn't think I could muster up the courage to push her away too many more times.

"Don't…" I pleaded into her ear as she looked at me with a mixture of hurt and puzzlement after the second attempt. It took all I had to hold her gaze as her eyes searched mine for a deeper reason. Her brown eyes penetrated my crystal ones and threatened to shatter them.

Her stare said it all but she still asked "Why? What's wrong?"

"I'm not… I can't… I don't know… _They_ don't know!" I mused aloud and withdrew. The others were not watching.

"They don't care," she returned, still looking upset "_I _don't care!"

Her words hung in the space between us for a few seconds and I couldn't breathe again. I gulped back great mouthfuls of stale air. Tears prickling at the back of my eyes were in danger of betraying steely-faced Naomi. When I didn't answer, she pressed on:

"Panda knows." she argued. Choosing, despite our increasingly stoned brains, to couch her reasoning in logic.

I searched my drug-addled mind for the right words. "Panda is Panda: she doesn't know _what _she knows."

"Effy knows" Emily persisted.

"Effy knows everything… she figured it out Friday morning. But she doesn't talk, she wouldn't…"

_My excuses sounded like bullshit, even to me._

As if prescient of the impending potential blow-up, Effy returned with Freddie and interrupted our loaded face-off.

Freddie had a goofy grin plastered across his face as he leaned in between Emily and me to mumble

"I am so… fucked!... Do I… look… fucked?" His eyes didn't focus on either of us as he spoke.

"That's not just the skunk, is it Effy?" asked Sid.

My best friend just smiled "A mental mindfuck can be nice." she deadpanned as Freddie opened his palm to reveal several small, white pills. Hands grabbed blindly at the chalky tablets. Effy's hand gripped tightly around my wrist and pulled me away.

Once we were just outside and out of earshot she pinned me to the wall without needing to touch me.

"What's the matter with you?" she probed. Her eyes were hazy but her mind seemed clearer than mine.

"I just… " I broke off and sighed. _I have no fucking clue! _"I'm not…" My entire body was tense.

"You're not what?" she persevered.

"I'm lots of things, Eff. I'm complicated. They wouldn't understand. _I'm _not sure _I_ understand."

She raised a patient eyebrow at me "You don't have to, do you?"

"I just… I wish some things could just be simple-"

Effy cut me off in my tracks "Fuck no! Simple is boring! Besides, this is not that complicated. Do you like her?"

I nodded, a single rebellious tear escaped and pearled down my cheek.

"And she likes you; that's obvious. So fucking get over yourself and man up!" Eff cupped my face in contrast to her harsh words and wiped the tear from my cheek with a swift move of her thumb. "Be brave!"

"But I'm not a-"

Effy was already returning towards to group "Just _be_ Naomi. Just be..."

I took a few deep breaths and pulled a cigarette out of the pack in my pocket. As I puffed away the tension knotting in my throat, my fingers rested on the crumpled piece of paper deep in my pocket. I pulled it out and examined it. I read through the words again:

_Feel free not to believe me but I don't usually do this.  
>Still, here's my number – <em>_07 266 64379  
>Bonnie<br>Please call?_

That had taken nerve; surely I could show some courage of my own. Truth was: of course I liked Emily. Sure it was early days but if I could admit it to myself then what was the big deal in admitting it to other people? What did that mean about me? All-knowing Effy had reminded me that it needn't matter. Labels are for cans, after all. I tossed the piece of paper and the cigarette butt into a pile of rubble up the side of the building. That's when I spotted it, trapped under fragments of reinforced concrete and half concealed behind a sheet of roof lining. I made a mental note to return later with the boys.

When I returned to the group Cook had reappeared and had managed to procure sparklers from god only knows where, and they were being passed around. JJ was back as well as Lara and he seemed more comfortable now. I knew how he felt. I sidled up to Emily and laced my fingers into hers. She looked to me in surprise and the guilt swelled in me one last time.

"I'm sorry." I whispered into her ear. "Second chance?"

When I pulled away it dawned on me. Nobody had batted an eyelid.

The sparklers twirled above heads as a new track began to play. Amongst the distorted lyrics I recognized the Garbage song:

_While holding back the tears,  
>You're choking on your smile,<br>A fake behind the fear_

Emily lifted our hands together and we started to sway with the others.

Impure thoughts crept into my mind as the redhead inched closer and spun me around.

_I know what's good for you (You can touch me if you want)  
>I know you're dying to (You can touch me if you want)<br>I know what's good for you (You can touch me if you want)  
>But you can't stop.<em>

She brought our arms down on either side of us and her hands came to rest finally on my waist, where they belonged. I breathed in deeply but I didn't move. Her fingers splayed over my hip-bones as she squeezed me in tighter. Her thumbs rubbed gently over the fabric of my dress across my stomach. I felt her chest rise and fall erratically against my back. Next thing I knew, her warm lips were on my neck. I felt the rush of the drugs again. The swimming in my head. The buzzing in my chest. Abandon. _This wasn't like me_._ I liked it._

As Emily nibbled a path up my neck to my ear, I slurred "You're not backwards in coming forwards, Miss Fitch."

"You got me." She giggled "The game is up," she tugged at my earlobe with her teeth "I'm trying to get into your pants."

It was my turn to laugh childishly as I looked down at my dress. "I'm not wearing pants" I joked "but _shhhhhh… _don't tell anyone!"

She closed the gap between us as I turned back to face her. Our mouths met and our tongues tangled together. Again the taste of smoke; it was reassuring. Its bitterness cut through the sweetness of her lips. I could feel her smiling into the kiss. We continued to shuffle around in the crowd, locked together with eyes closed. Both her hands cupped my face tenderly. I didn't know what to do with mine so I placed them gingerly on her hips. Gathering what nerve I had left, I grazed them up to her waist. My thumbs crept under the material of her shirt and found the hot skin there. Her stomach muscles twitched. I froze.

We stopped swaying and my eyes opened as she rested her forehead to mine. As I took a step back I held her steady at arms' length. I took her in; she was stunning. The earlier sheen of sweat was now matting her hair to her face and gave her chest a wet luster. Her eyes would no longer focus but I could see them darting, searching up at me with urgency and intensity. There was a tiny crease between her eyebrows as she furrowed her brow ever so slightly. Probably to ensure she didn't overstep again.

I looked around once more but the others were no longer anywhere in sight. Emily pondered for a second before summoning up the guts to say what she said next.

"Back to Sans-Souci?"

_In for a penny, in for a pound. Right? I'd come this far. _I thought to myself. "Ok." I said quietly.

My redhead beamed.

We managed to locate Katie first. She was looking for Cook who had disappeared again.

Next we literally stumbled across Effy and Freddie taking stoned photos of each other with what was left of the Polaroid. I told Effy that Katie was looking for Cook.

She nodded knowingly and leaned in towards the darker twin to whisper something into her ear.

When she released Katie, the girl was faintly blushing but said nothing as she marched off in the direction of the back room. I caught mysterious Effy's eye again.

"What did you say to her?"

"I'll tell you in another life, when we are both cats."

I heaved a sigh and followed Emily on Katie's tail. "Meet you outside" I mouthed back to Effy and mimed a phone with my free hand "I'll call a cab." We caught up to Katie just as she found Cook, passed out cold again. This time he had nodded off scarcely propped up against the wall of the old service hallway. She huffed and shook her head as Emily chuckled.

"I think he's yours." said Emily to her sister, rather amused, pointing at the boy with his shirt open and head lolled to one side. I dialed the number for a local taxi company.

"Babe… babe, babe, babe… babe, _babe_" Katie repeated as she shook him awake. _She must be used to this_.

"Wha'?" mumbled Cook as he came to, straightening his head.

"You got totally monged again babes." There was just a hint of exasperation in her voice.

He spread his arms to either side of his body but didn't make any move to get up "Mental is as mental does."

"Your tits look fuckin' mint from this angle by the way babe." He added.

Katie rolled her eyes at him but she smiled proudly even as she did so. She turned towards the door, obviously satisfied that he would follow before casting back "Coming Juicey?"

Cook picked himself up off the floor and met her at the doorway.

We gathered Effy and Freddie, Chris and Jal, Sid and Cassie on our way out. Chris explained that JJ had escorted Lara back home to meet Albert's babysitter before curfew and returned early to Sans-Souci with Panda and Thomas. Apparently Tony had made other plans for the rest of his night.

The peculiar melodic strands of a remastered Air's _Sexy Boy_ resonated into the night as I clambered into the second taxi next to Emily and the Cabbie drove us off towards _No Worries_.


	13. Naomily

**Congrats to everyone who picked the Vanilla Sky insert from the last chapter. It's always been a favourite of mine and a line I've thought would be very suited to mysterious Effy.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own skins but the butterflies in my stomach at the release of each new chapter are mine and mine alone.**

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><p>"Your guitar is upstairs by your door Emily." said JJ when we crossed the threshold.<p>

Emily shuffled clumsily past Katie who was still standing in the entrance hallway attempting to prop up a very lethargic Cook. "Thanks JJ; you're a gem." She gave him a hearty squeeze that made him squeak a little from the force.

Everybody poured into the dimly lit living room and collapsed onto the lounge set, joining Panda and Thomas who were already curled up in the same armchair. Effy instinctively pulled out more skins and her Zippo as she set about rolling a couple more spliffs for the group. While they were being passed around, JJ enquired about the rest of our night.

"So where are the lost boys?" he asked.

"Up to mischief again, no doubt" Katie provided "James came to tell me they were returning to Campus not long after you left for The Tunnels to pick up the gear."

"Yeah, thanks again for that Jay." Freddie took a long drag off the spliff and passed it to Emily.

She pinched the thin cylinder between her thumb and index finger and placed it to her lips. Cool air entered my lungs as she inhaled. I held my breath as she pushed out the smoke in one smooth motion. I stared transfixed at the embers on the tip of the small object between her slender fingers. My head was dizzy and my mind was numb.

Cook lazily opened his eyes and reached a tired arm around Katie from their easy chair. "C'mon and pass that one over here, Eff."

She finished licking the paper and passed the second rollie anticlockwise to him. He relaxed into the seat with a cozy growl and took a few tokes. "Thanks Princess." he puffed.

I could hear the ticking of the cheap clock in the nearby kitchen and the faint hum of the fridge.

The Rizlas were passed around, arms reached across, shoes were shucked off, legs curled under bodies. The group remained mostly quiet as we sucked in the evening. I too was processing, or attempting to… rather unsuccessfully. Before too long Chris and Jal retired upstairs, followed shortly after by a sober but noticeably tired JJ. Panda unfolded herself out of Thommo's lap and stretched her arm out towards him. "Thomas, we should go home to bed now too."

"C'est vrai ca, ma jolie." He replied, following her obediently.

They skirted the front door and we heard Panda yawn outside as she cautioned her boyfriend "I'm too tired for surf and turf though."

"Good on ya, Pandapops!" Cook remarked languidly with an affectionate smile at nobody in particular.

Emily cleared her throat and reached over me to pass the roach once more to Sid. She pushed herself upright and dusted off her lap absently. She turned to me and smiled.

"Katie and Cook will be sleeping on the foldout here as soon as these four decide to pack it in."

She nodded her head in the direction of a very casual looking Effy, Freddie, Sid and Cassie.

"So I'm afraid you don't have a lift home this time. Are you happy to kip in my room or would you rather I call you a cab?" There was no hint of expectation in her voice but her eyes twitched with a glimmer of hope and a world of trust.

I blinked my dry eyes and cast a look around at the others. Katie was distractedly stroking up and down Cook's arm. He had fallen asleep with his head comfortably nestled on her chest. Sid had gotten up and was busy hauling crinkled sheets from the laundry through the French doors of his dining-room-come-bedroom. Cassie was watching us attentively with a beatific smile on that angelic face of hers. Freddie was looking towards Emily, presumably because she had been the last to move in his field of vision. When I say 'towards' though, I mean 'vaguely in her direction but mostly through her.' His head tilted slowly to one side as he took in the sight. Effy quirked an eyebrow at me and the corner of her lips curled up almost imperceptibly.

I shook the dewy cobwebs out of my mind and extended my arm to her, uncrossing my legs.

"No need, I'll think be fine sleeping here." I returned her smile and let her pull me out of the deep couch.

Emily's expression was a mixture of stoned bliss and exhaustion. She yawned into her free hand before waving it at the others.

"Night all." then she turned to her sister with an impish grin "Emsy beddin slip. Slip gud Katie."

Katie giggled "Slip gud Emsy doo."

I wrinkled my nose at that confusing exchange but followed Emily out of sight. She pulled us laboriously up the stairs. When we got to the door to her 'den' she heaved her whole weight into it and we swung around it as it gave way. Once on the other side she teetered dangerously a few steps in and almost collapsed with the inertia. I only managed to hold her upright for a few seconds more before she dropped heavily into the beanbag.

She brought me down on top of her and her head bounced awkwardly against my sternum. I reached down and stroked her forehead better, brushing the slightly matted strands of her long fringe off her brow.

The only light in the room was the waning moon shining through the open windows. Emily blinked a few times and it looked as if her eyelids could not contain her waxing pupils. She snaked her hand behind my neck and played with the curls that she found there. The jolt that surged down my chest pulled me upright in a flash. I mumbled unconvincingly through my stoned daze and headed back towards the door.

When I got there I caught sight of the guitar case, nonchalantly leaning against the wall. The light emanating from downstairs was just enough to make out a few of the many stickers on its face. A few band logos, an anti uranium mining badge and a stencil of a wind-turbine. But there, in between a small newspaper clipping and a band sticker for 'That Brutal Moon' was a coloured cutout roughly pasted onto the charcoal case, the words daring me again to '_Be Brave_.'

I picked up the case and brought it back into the room. Emily had gotten out of the beanbag and stood there in the center of the room, not daring to move. From where I stood I could only make out her silhouette and her hands clasped anxiously in front of her. I took a cautious step towards the armoire and spoke out into the shadows between us.

"Do you have a shirt I can sleep in?"

Emily took this cue to join me next to the large dresser and tugged a few items out of the top drawer. She then turned towards the steep rung of steps that led to the mezzanine and climbed them, much slower than I'd seen her do it just that morning. I lumbered uneasily behind her, still lugging the guitar case I hadn't thought to set down yet. My clumsy feet tripped several times on the risers in the darkness but I made it up and found Emily standing at the top smiling. She was holding her arms out with the clothes in one hand. Her free hand clasped gently around mine still clutching the heavy case.

We didn't say anything as she put the instrument down against a small writing desk. We didn't speak as she crossed to the bed and pulled out her own pyjamas from under the pillow. I didn't utter a word as she shucked off her shirt with her back to me and pulled the loose fitting T-shirt over her head. Even as the now familiar boxers replaced her jeans, I was lost for words.

She turned towards me and I crossed the room towards her. I felt her hand quietly tug my fingers out from between my teeth. She softly kissed the back of them before releasing my hand.

"Don't look, ok?" I pleaded in a whisper.

She turned around and crouched by her low double bed, messing with the covers as I got changed. When she looked at me again her eyes held nothing but kindness and patience. I became paralyzingly aware that could see her nipples faintly outlined behind the fabric of her shirt. My heart was hammering inside my chest. The still silence of the room was reverberating loudly in my ears.

She eased herself into the bed and scooted aside, holding the covers back for me. I slid under the sheets between the cool bedding and her warm presence and shivered a little at the contrast. Emily must have felt me shudder because she wrapped her warm arm around my waist.

I lay there staring at the ceiling which I could not make out. Emily didn't move any further. I wished I hadn't been smoking. Drinking I could deal with. I could tell the difference between my drunken thoughts and impulses and the sensible alternative. But the weed had fed my paranoia and added fuel to the fearful fire in the pit of my stomach.

So I was lying here in her bed, I had gotten myself here. I had allowed her to let me in; and there was nobody left around to judge. Not only that but, if I was honest with myself, nobody seemed to give a proverbial rat's rear-end when they _were_ around. So what was holding me back, pinning my shoulders to the foreign mattress?

Was it the fact that I was aware my defenses were down? I had been drunk that one time with Sofia and yet that time I had woken up feeling like I would never have let myself were it not for the alcohol. It had been the perfect excuse to give in. But it was also the perfect excuse to pull away the next morning. Only this time I didn't want to have to blame my altered mental state. I didn't want this to be the same old experiment.

Lara's story also played a loop in my mind. That moment you let your guard down and let somebody in. And then that moment they dash your hopes of security by walking out of your life as easily as they had walked in. You couldn't _make_ them stay. Even with a child, you couldn't guilt them, nor would you want them to stay for the wrong reasons.

Worse still, they could stay in your life just long enough to get you to truly believe they would hang around. Just like dad. He had stuck by mum and me long enough to give us a sense of security and then he had fucked right off. I didn't want to make myself that vulnerable. Not until I was sure. But could I ever be sure? I wasn't sure I could. _Christ Naomi! You're going around in circles!_

"I can hear the cogs whirring." She murmured, bringing me out of my spiral.

"I was just… thinking."

"_Over_thinking" she stressed.

"I'm sorry. I'm drunk, and I'm stoned. I'm not thinking clearly; I can't make sense of..." I trailed off.

She seemed to understand what I meant. "You don't have to. Does everything _have to _make sense?"

"I'm normally a creature of logic. But there's no pragmatic way to label how I -"

She cut me off "I _hate _labels. They make things easier for _other_ people to understand but they're too restrictive."

"But the others know that you're out." I protested, still staring up into the shadows.

Emily squeezed me a little tighter "Yeah…" she paused a little, thinking "but that took a while."

She shifted a little and inched closer into my side "I'm… comfortable now. And they're just happy that I'm happy. It doesn't take anything away from them, _who_ makes me happy. They don't care about that. Well… except mum and that's why we don't talk."

I drew in a deep breath as I took that statement in "I know they didn't react, I know my fears are irrational, I just… I'm still… I'm not ready…"

"And I want you to be ready," she placated me. "in your own time. That's why I haven't told anybody. I'll follow your lead. But I have to tell you now: I won't – I can't – lie to Katie… if she asks. I mean, I was not like you. Being different made me stronger. Eventually Katie realized that and let me be. I will always owe her for that and for her support."

I envied the quiet strength of the girl lying beside me. I admired her integrity. Here she was offering to take things at my rhythm. This indomitable force was willfully reigning herself in for me. And yet she was refusing to pander to my fears. She was pushing me to fight them by refusing to compromise for the sake of them. I decided then that I would have to shed the cocoon of my comfort zone for her. She deserved at least that.

I huffed audibly and wrestled the weight of my tired body around in the bed to face her. I felt her smile against the pillow we were sharing. Her arm left my side briefly to stroke my cheek. Her thumb ghosted over my cheekbone and I felt the soft callus that usually strummed her guitar gently stroke my skin. I smiled against her palm before she returned her arm around my waist.

My redhead leaned in the rest of the way and kissed my eyelids closed. She rested her forehead against mine again and sighed peacefully. I could smell the smoke on her breath mingling with the crisp smell of clean sheets.

_Oh well, down the rabbit hole we go…_

As I drifted off, the last thing I saw was the backlit deep red hue of her moondrenched hair before I closed my eyelids one last time.


	14. Banksy

**Yes, an integral part of Bristol, Banksy must be one of the characters I can use, right?**

**I'm going to start changing up the rhythm of chapters now. I was keen to set the scene nice and slowly and almost in real time. But we're going to adopt a faster pace for a bit now. Well – I'll let hung-over Naomi wake up properly first.**

**In other news, I got my first bad review today.**

**It didn't sting as bad as I'd feared. Figured if I kept going with this for long enough that I'd get one; I only wish it had been more constructive. Still, thanks Minime for your honesty and for taking the time to review. **

**This one goes out with love to the rest of you out there who have stuck with me and are still reading beyond chapter 3.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own skins but I'm starting to Bristle while I work.**

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><p>The sun was cracking through the shades when I surfaced and casting pink shapes behind my eyelids.<p>

The first thing I noticed was a numb feeling in my right arm. The second was a dull ache right between my eyes. The third thing I took in slower, as I lay there furrowing and processed my strange surroundings.

I went to move the offending limb and shake the sleep out of it but the damn thing wouldn't move. I forced my eyes open in the confusion and the reason gradually came into focus. First just a silhouette, a blurry shape, just an outline in front of me. Then I made out small details, ruby hairs sprawled across a pillow, the curve of a neck, the splay of a shoulder.

That's when the memories came flooding back: last night, the gig, the Moon, the booze, the rave, the weed, Sans-Souci...

In the clear, harsh light of the early morning and my newfound sobriety, last night's actions froze into sharp relief.

_Stop it, you're thinking too much again._

I willed myself to step down off the ledge. Slow. Slow down.

_Breathe, just – fucking – breathe._

I shook my head and sighed, sending small crimson hairs fluttering against the back of her neck. She stirred and emitted a quiet hum. _Christ Naomi, you dunce!_ _Look, now you've managed to wake her up! _

But then, just before the panic had a chance to set in I heard that memorable husk from somewhere within the friendly form in front of me. It was deeper though as the voice rose from the depths of slumber.

"This is a nice way to wake up!." she purred as I was about to unhook my leg from between hers and pull my free arm out from around her ribcage. She must have read my intention to retreat because she held my hand fast in hers and hooked her tiny foot around my ankle. She tugged my leg back into place and smoothed over my calf, rubbing the arch of her foot up and down my leg.

Her hand hugged me in tighter still and pulled my own hand up to where her breast bone met her collarbone. She dipped her head and softly kissed the backs of my fingers one by one. I suddenly became aware of my poor right arm, still trapped and unfairly devoid of feeling while my left was being tenderly showered with delicious affection.

I stretched my right hand out a few times, wriggling and flexing the fingers as best I could without seeing or feeling them. Suddenly pins and needles started to erupt up my forearm, making it flinch involuntarily under her neck and I drew a sharp intake of breath.

"Oh, oh, no! I'm so sorry!" she cooed and let out a chuckle, readjusting herself so I could free my arm and stretch it just above our heads.

I turned my head and groaned into a mouthful of pillow. Her chuckle got louder and she resumed her gentle kisses before silencing my whining completely by taking my index finger into her hot mouth. A ragged breath tumbled out of my chest as my stomach muscles clenched of their own volition. Strands of red hair danced across the pillow under the warm stream of breath. I strained my hurting eyes at the dregs of the dawn and frantically clung to what remained of my composure.

"What time is it?" _That's it Campbell. Pragmatism; your lifeline .Bloody coward!_

Lips stretched into a smile before releasing my finger. Emily pulled away momentarily and reached for the alarm clock by the bedside.

"'s Sunday." She mumbled and nestled back into the groove my spooning body provided.

I smiled and nudged her playfully. "That the best you can do then?"

"Well, there's numbers after it, mind. But they could be anything…"

I allowed myself a genuine laugh. This girl was confidence and spontaneity incarnate. There was such a sincerity and candid charm about her that she had me simply hypnotised. I found it almost irresistible. Something about it, about her, melted my steely resolve and tore my painstakingly built defenses asunder. It was in such sharp contrast to my natural neurosis, even though recently it was her very presence that seemed to be the greatest factor in the spread of this neurosis.

She was like a refreshing anti-Naomi. Her mousy demeanour and apparent mealy-mouthed quality when I had first met her had now subsided as we got to know each other. She was revealing an inner strength I could only dream of achieving. I on the other hand, for all of my bravado and stoic I-don't-give-a-fuck façade, was a pathetic bundle of paranoia.

Her uncompromising beauty was launching strike upon strike at my ramparts. Fight or flight time was upon me. But I was running out of reasons to flee, and out of excuses to fight.

I propped myself up on my elbow and rubbed soothingly at my forehead for a minute. Emily curled around to face me and ran her thumb over the crest of my eyebrow.

"The others are all meeting for brunch this morning. Are we joining them?"

"Not before I have a shower." I sniffed at my arm below me and scrunched up my nose. "I smell like stale smoke and other people's sweat."

"Lovely!" She shoved me teasingly away from her "Well go ahead then. Towels are in the dresser, it's the door right next to it."

I rolled off the bed with a flourish and curtsied for effect. She tossed her head down and giggled - my hangover dissipated a little. When she looked back up at me and smiled, it was dispelled further.

"You're a dag!" she mocked.

She was right. "That I am, you're just the only one who happens to find it endearing." I poked my tongue out at her in a rare moment of puerile abandon and headed down the steps.

We took turns in the shower and Emily leant me some clothes to wear to brunch. The skirt she supplied was shorter on me than it would have been on her but the shirt smelled like her and I liked that. The warm shower helped appease my headache; food would have to do the rest. By the time we got to the bottom landing of the main stairs, I needed coffee like a petulant baby whines for his bottle. _Shit, I really was becoming a journo. Cranky before my morning coffee; cliché much?_

We set out on foot with Katie and Cook, Effy and Freddie, Cassie and Sid, Chris and Jal and of course JJ. All the couples of Sans-Souci plus three. Or was that plus one? The others were certainly going to feel free to draw their own conclusions, what with me having spent the night and wearing Em's clothes the next morning.

When we got into Easton, Katie led us to her usual breakfast bar. It was a pretty trendy joint and had obviously been professionally decorated. Like its regulars, the place looked stylish and tasteful, if lacking a little in original character. The baristas and wait staff bustled around the busy floor in matching black monogrammed aprons and brimless caps. The top half of the walls were lined in burgundy crushed velvet and the rest of the scheme was all sleek grays and matt metallic clean lines.

As we tucked into our pastries and humungous quantities of caffeine, Cook cut to the chase.

"So Red, does Blondie's carpet match the drapes?" he beamed.

The look of shock on Emily's face for once actually mirrored mine.

Still, she collected herself quicker than me and sent her foot across the underside of the table. It must have collided swiftly with his shin because he yelped before adding:

"What? I'm all for it, me. Relax, I think it's great. But just for the purpose of research, yeah. If she gave you the keys to the furry city, I wanna know: do we have an airplane blonde?"

"Cook!" Katie came to her sister's rescue and shoved her elbow into Cook's ribs, forcing him to cough and sputter on the large mouthful he had been speaking around.

Curiosity got the better of me. I chose to let it override my instinctive panic. It was easier to deal with than the latter. "Airplane blonde?"

Freddie sighed and stepped in for his friend who was still choking on his Danish "He means blonde but with a black box…"

"Ugh! Cook, do you always have to be such a crass cunt?" Emily spat at him.

"That's me, babe." He shrugged "Shows I care 'bout you. So…? You gonna answer the question?"

Emily's shoulders lowered again and she reached for my hand under the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze. But I answered for her.

"We haven't slept together, yet. And if we do, you certainly won't be privy to it."

My cheeks glowed red hot but the feeling of pride at my modest stand was something I could definitely get used to. Emily's fingers gripped tighter around mine and I didn't have to look at her face to know.

The rest of brunch was a lot less eventful, with the exception perhaps of JJ's face lighting up like a child on Christmas morning when his phone started to dance around on the table. He snatched it up and ran outside to answer the call in private.

"Three guesses who that is." Emily grinned.

When the boy got back to the table he confessed under duress that Lara had thanked him for last night and asked him to meet her for dinner on Thursday. Three minutes later my phone vibrated in my pocket and I fished it out.

_Please tell me ur free this Thursday.  
>My babysitter can't make it :(<br>Thanx again for last nite. I owe u.  
>Xo Lara<em>

After brunch Katie and Cook went back to hers on foot and the others dispersed, each to their own.

Emily and I just started walking. We meandered through the streets for a while in easy silence until we found ourselves in front of the Kebele Community Centre. The redhead walked up to the long side wall and stood right under the mural. She paced the length of it. Her bright hair seemed to fit in the context of the vivid mural colours. I stood and watched her blend and clash with the background, oddly mesmerized.

As she came level with the angry beige dog she stopped.

I caught up to her. "That's Banksy." I offered.

"I know." She smiled "Apparently there are heaps more around the Uni area."

A smirk of an idea grew in my mind "Yeah, but I know where the others are between here and there. You keen?"

A hint of mischief hit her eye and she took my hand. "Definitely! Lead the way."

We hopped a bus to Eastville. On the way I explained that Gina had shown me all these scattered pieces or work one day after our last lodger had moved out. I suppose it had been her attempt to renew her bond with me after a few difficult years.

To this day, mum swears _the_ 'Bansky' had lived with us in the communal house, shortly after dad left. Allegedly mum and Bansky had even had a bit of a fling once she had found herself ready to rebound. She said this was before he had really come into the spotlight, of course, and that he wasn't using stencil as extensively back then.

I remained skeptical, as always, but I guess it was a plausible explanation for why she knew where even some of the older, more obscure ones were. Still, there was no way to prove it either and, like most of Gina's stories, I was left wondering if she was having me on or if someone else had been having her on. At least she seemed to truly believe his claims to being the elusive street artist. Who was I to tell her he wasn't?

Emily sat and listened to me ramble on. I don't know why but she seemed genuinely fascinated. I have never been one for telling stories. I don't take after mum in that regard. Always been more of a writer, needing time to ponder my words for better effect and concision. Nevertheless Emily continued to watch my lips as I spun to her the history of the two we were about to see as best I could remember from Gina's recount.

We got off on the corner of Freemantle Road and I walked us to the gorilla with the pink eye-mask that had become Kieran's favourite. A little further down the block there was a restored dapper man with glasses which I rather liked because it was shrouded in mystery as to whether it was really a Banksy. Even Gina wasn't sure; I enjoyed that.

Next we made our way to St Werburghs where I knew there was a fading quote. Emily ran her hand along the stenciled paint of the letters and read it out in a low voice just to herself.

_Playing it safe can cause a lot of damage in the long run._

She turned to me and pecked me on the cheek. "I like this one."

"Do you, now?" I pulled her closer again and tilted my head just enough to kiss her the way I had wanted. The street was not busy. Still.

"You're learning fast." She quipped when I released her.

I'd practice being brave, take small steps in the direction of daring for this. We caught the train to St Andrews and walked by the old rocket-carrier elephant, the discrete 'designated picnic area' stencil and the 'Take the Money' collaboration mural in Montpellier.

Another bus to Stokes Croft and I took us to the corner of Thomas Street North where I knew the rose caught in the mouse-trap was that had long reminded me of Effy. Not far from that one was the famous 'Mild, Mild West' mural and Emily guided us to the next one which she told me Sid had shown her. It was an old design for Blowpop Records, now awfully worn off and barely legible on the old concrete block.

We had a late lunch in St Pauls and made our way to the river near Floating Harbour to the infamous Thekla nightclub boat. From the South Bank we peered across at the graffiti on the side of the black vessel. A white stenciled Grim Reaper floated eerily above the surface of the water. Bristol's own river Styx.

I told Emily that Effy had once told me in college that this was her favourite Banksy. My best friend had explained that she loved the symbolism and the use of the real river as an integral part of the image. All the same, that was one of the first times I had caught an insight into Eff's darker recesses and I had started to worry about her bleak outlook.

Emily curved her arm around my waist and hugged me into her side as we walked along the bank in the advancing cold.

We doubled back via St Augustine's and made a pit-stop at Brandon Hill to say 'Hi' to Thommo who was busy working away his Sunday. He greeted us warmly in French and gave Emily a hug that needed no translation.

When we got to Park Street, I gave her the back story of Love Cheat, the naked man hanging out of a painted window, which the council had decided to allow to stay on the wall of the sexual health clinic.

Last but not least was mum's favourite. Closest to home; on upper Maudlin Street, significantly near the children's hospital. The police sniper crouching over an awning with the little boy creeping up behind him spoke to Gina's core. Back when I was in Emily's shoes, mum had started a rant about police injustice and the armed forces that threatened to last all day.

She had gone on about bravery and patriotism. My well-meaning mother's subversion of society's rules during my childhood and her many attempts at civil disobedience for a plethora of causes, some more laudable than others, were her testament to the need for courage from both parties. I had once or twice pointed out to her that popping a paper bag behind a sniper was perhaps as foolhardy a plan as some of her more outlandish rebellions.

Though Ems and I agreed the image was probably simply intended as satire.

Emily walked me back to my doorstep and we dragged our tired feet the last block. I scuffed my soles progressively slower as we neared the door, dreading the final moments of the day.

"There's another one you know, at the zoo." I didn't know what else to say so I'd gone for trivial. "It used to be my favorite when I was younger."

I fondly remembered the Elephants' Escape Message which I had decided was too far to visit today:

_I want out. This place is too cold. Keeper smells. Boring, boring, boring._

"You'll have to show it to me another day." She winked and rose off her feet, capturing my lips with hers gently even as she tottered a little. I was so tired, I didn't move. Just stood there being kissed, passively enjoying being the object.

Emily hummed as she pulled away but kept her face as close to mine as our difference in heights would allow. She stood and looked up into my eyes. I heard the unforgettable husky voice come from somewhere below them.

"What are you doing tomorrow night?"

"Weekly family dinner I'm afraid. But I'm free on Tuesday – if you have a valid coupon."

Her crooked smile was the best reward "Can't. I have another rehearsal Tuesday night; we're adding a few songs to the set-list. What about Wednesday?"

"Daily Planeteers, that freelancing journalists' gathering I was telling you about this morning. Sorry… I don't have to go though."

"No, no, you should! It sounds great. Don't miss it on my account." She hooked her fingers behind my neck, I didn't flinch. "Thursday?"

"I agreed to babysit Albert for Lara, you know for her date with JJ."

Suddenly an idea seemed to occur to us both in unison. I saw her smile widen as obvious genius struck.

"Would you object to my tagging along? Think Lara would mind?"

I scrunched my mouth to the side in fake deliberation "Definitely not. To both questions." I leaned in and kissed her again, a little more forcefully than before.

"Great!" she smiled, her eyes still closed. When she opened them she took in a deep breath and I felt her ribcage swell within my grip. "I'll ask JJ to drop me off at hers when he picks her up."

She let her hands trace down my arms. Her palms dropped into mine as I stepped backwards onto the threshold.

"Good night Campbell." She chuckled.

"Good night Fitch."

I watched her disappear around the block with my hand on the doorknob and a stupid grin on my face.

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><p><strong>I must give a nod to the great website I found to fill the gaps in my knowledge of the more obscure Banksy graffiti around Bristol. For those of you who want to go check out the images, you'll find them at: http: www. .uk / map-of-bristol-street-art (without the spaces).**

**If any of these have been painted over (aside from it being a great shame) I apologise for the erroneous timeline. Let's just pretend they're all still there.**

**Take care. :)**


	15. Gina and Kieran

**Hello friends! I've been spreading myself rather thin since the last update. Good thing I already have this one and the following 3ish mapped out. **

**I've started a twitter account to keep abreast and for some form of encouragement to stay at it.**

**If you're on there, please feel free to follow me - (at)blueeyedfrog02 - and make me feel less like a newb. :) You can thank the amazing Hyperfitched for that. You can also thank her for the valued second opinion I needed on the last few paragraphs before posting this.  
><strong>

**Disclaimer: I don't own skins but my phone **_**pwns **_**me. Or at least so says my immediate family. (Well they didn't say 'pwn', but I knew what they meant.)**

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><p>The days went slower while I missed her. How could I miss something I'd lived content without only recently? I didn't know. But then I hadn't known.<p>

Work was to be wiled away. Despite the repercussions of the column, the aftermath of my first bona fide review in print felt slow on the uptake. It wasn't a bad slow, more of a languid pace. Like I had found my rudder and gained control on the vessel. That rudder was now dragging peacefully behind me, slowing my course but giving me direction. Still I couldn't wait to get there.

Since my column on Eff's poetry reading was published on Saturday, Kieran called me into his office Monday morning for a chat.

"Sit yourself down Missy." He said when I appeared in the doorway of his small office. I caught sight of his green t-shirt under the lapel of his shitty suit jacket. _Every day is Earth Day. _I smiled to myself. Kieran shifted a pile of papers about half as tall as Emily from the chair opposite his and waved his hand at it. I perched.

"So… I'm not quite sure what to do with you, Naomi. Angie has been hounding me to share you with her. Now, I'm a possessive bastard. You know that. But I have agreed to share custody of your talents with her sixty/forty, if you'll let us."

I eyed him off perplexedly. But before I could summon up a coherent question or even the beginning of an interjection, he pressed on.

"Fridays and Mondays with her to cover the weekend's events. The rest of the week your wee arse is mine. What say you?"

I swallowed. Then I opened my mouth to say something. Nothing. I swallowed again.

"Good! Glad we had this little chat." Kieran smiled. "Now get out of my office, I have work to do and you're late for Angie now."

I was down two fingernails by the time I reached the Arts and Entertainment floor and presented to Angie's office. She was wearing a casual red dress that clung hesitantly to her small frame. Red, like my minstrel's hair. I liked Angie's dress. My new part-boss gestured for me to take a seat and I repeated the process I had started in Kieran's office mere minutes earlier.

"Good morning Naomi. I trust you had a good weekend?"

"Very." I nodded. "Kieran sent me down here so you could… brief me on what I'd be doing today, I guess?"

"Yes, well, I have asked Hobbsy to clear some space for you. You can start by helping him set up the workstation next to his."

_Great, new colleagues! _"Ok." I agreed. She continued at full speed.

"Fridays we'll have you with the rest of the team on the 'Upcoming Events' page. I might also need the odd column from you, here and there if there are any weekday events. We'll sort you out with tickets to these of course." She flicked her hand in mid air perfunctorily "The weekend events as well. Oh, and you'll get tickets for a plus one to some of these; it depends on the organizers. Mondays you'll have to write up a review for the events we sent you to. I'll give you a word-count before each event so you know what notes to take. We'll send a photographer out to the bigger weekend ones with you. Hobbsy will introduce you to Ailsa this afternoon."

I floundered a little at this information overload. "Uhm… Ok. Thanks."

She gave me a cursory nod and barreled ahead. "Now Kieran tells me you went to a gig at 'The Tunnels' on Saturday. I don't have much room for it in tomorrow's issue but I also don't really have anything else for you to do today yet. So how about a concise 200 words by 4?"

The idea was novel to me. Getting paid to scribble about what I enjoyed rather than what incensed me. "Errr… sure. Can do." I wasn't sure how I felt about it yet. But I felt I should agree with the new order of hierarchy. "So… should I…?" I motioned with my head towards the door.

"Oh yeah; you're dismissed." Angie smiled and picked up her red pen, turning back to the stack of papers on her desk.

I walked away overwhelmed and under-prepared. When I got to the open plan corridor of desks, I realized I didn't even know who I was supposed to be looking for. Thankfully the movement of gangly young man shifting boxes off the edge of the second desk from the window caught my attention. I marched up to him and cleared my throat. Dark brown eyes looked up at me from the last box he had set down. His jaw was covered with stubble, but not the kind of groomed stubble that guys wore for effect. This guy just hadn't bothered to or had time to shave. The seams of his dress-shirt drooped a little over his narrow shoulders. He seemed happy to see me.

"Naomi I presume?"

I grabbed another box. He explained his name was Andrew. Hobbsy was Angie's first day nickname for him after she had declared there were too many 'A' names in the Arts section team already. It had stuck. We finished clearing the desk and I stared at the boxes which had merely been given another temporary home in a corner of the floor.

Hobbsy sat at one of the chairs facing the desk. "Budget will barely allow us one desk for each person within the building, let alone two desks. So we'll be sharing this desk twice a week."

He didn't seem to mind. I did.

"You can use this space here." He gestured grandiosely at a PC sitting on the minuscule corner of workspace we had just freed.

I spent the rest of the morning setting up said workspace. I booted up the computer and logged onto the server. The guitar pick I had lifted from Emily's nightstand Sunday morning found a home on the pin up space behind it. I placed some of my stuff in the top drawer. When it came time for lunch I sent Emily a message in an attempt to dispel the incessant daydreams of her somewhat. I needed to exorcise the selfish monopoly she had gained on my thoughts. It wasn't fair. And it wasn't going to be productive.

_How is your Monday so far?  
>Work is crazy: I'm being split between<br>Kieran and Arts & Ent. now.  
>I may not have any nails by the end of today.<br>Nxx_

I was halfway through my sandwich at my usual lunch bar when she answered.

_Try not to stress & bite too much.  
>I'm rather attached to ur hands.<br>I've spent half the day emailing  
>venues for gigs. Snooze!<br>xo Em_

I sat back and chewed, mulling over the not so glorious 'day-life' of a muso. Then I composed another message:

_Ugh! Any luck so far?_

Her reply was quicker this time.

_Nope! :-( Everybody's already  
>given out their residency spots.<br>Might take a break & work on  
>the arrangements for the new<br>covers we're adding._

I finished off my sandwich and sent her my best encouraging words before heading back upstairs to start on the review of their gig. That would be something good to tell her on Thursday. I could look forward to that; as long as it got printed.

Hobbsy was waiting for me at our desk when I returned. There was a short and curvaceous girl standing with him. Her black hair was up in a messy bun. She turned to face me when Hobbsy's eyes registered my presence. She had pretty eyes, warm and genuine. _Too warm for someone I'd just met._ I thought. Her darker skin contrasted with the pale turquoise dress she wore over black jeans and combat boots. A kind smile graced her striking features. She seemed relaxed. _Maybe I would be too if I started my day at 1pm. _

"This is Ailsa," explained Hobbsy. "she's our photographer. We're working out the type of shots I'm going to need her to take tonight for my segment tomorrow."

Ailsa turned back to the desk and picked up a camera with a large lens. She set about removing the lens and replacing it with a fish-eye with the dexterity and speed of a well trained recruit assembling his handgun. She looked through the viewfinder and adjusted a few settings.

"I think we have this covered Hobbs. I'll take the usual, and you'll like it." She winked at him and went back to fiddling with the settings on her weapon.

My phone sent a frisson down my leg. I reached into my pocket and peered down at the screen.

One message from Emily, a single line:

_I like boobs!_

I snorted at the phone. In a rare moment of spontaneity, my reply came naturally.

_Your sentiment is acknowledged.  
>I'm going to assume you left your<br>phone unattended though. _:-)

Her next message was much longer.

_Fuck U James! The worm thinks he's funny.  
>Sorry, I was at the piano.<br>He just sent that to all my contacts!  
>So fucking immature! I'm gonna kill him.<br>I shld have let him spend the day at  
>the uni library like Katie suggested.<br>Grrr! Sorry again._

I was laughing out loud. Glad I didn't have any siblings, and all the same jealous of what Emily and James had. When I looked up, Hobbsy and Ailsa were both looking curiously at me.

"Boyfriend?" Ailsa asked.

I think I went a little red. I shook my head.

She paused for only an instant "Girlfriend?" she persevered. There was no judgment evident in her tone.

I pondered a moment. "No."

Ailsa smiled "Oh, ok." She shrugged and pushed her camera into a bag. "Well, I'm off to edit the weekend's pics. I'll send you something in a couple of hours Hobbsy."

The 200 words were easy for me. Too easy. I've said before: when talking I tend to ramble. I don't like that. So when I write I can force myself to get to the fucking point but still take my time with it. I can waver for ages selecting just the right words without fear of my audience losing interest.

This was an exercise in self-censorship. And this time it was easy enough to weed out the bits I wanted to censor.

Objective observation? In.

Subjective, sappy girl-crush material? Out. Most definitely out.

The great thing about the Odd Sorts was that, thankfully for this scribbler, they were still objectively great. I saved the file and proofread. _Ok, I'm biased. _But they_ were! _I sent the file off to Angie.

By the end of the day, Angie emailed me to confirm they had found space for my short review. Hobbsy had apparently culled a hundred superfluous words off his weekend piece to accommodate it.

I wasn't sure if I should thank him. It made me mildly uncomfortable. What did etiquette dictate in these cases of page-space sharing?

When he and I parted ways in the foyer, he hugged me and congratulated me.

"See you Friday, colleague." He beamed and strode off, swinging his satchel over his shoulder as he went.

I stood next to my bike for a minute longer, blinking. Relative strangers weren't supposed to be this congenial. At least, not to someone who had just barged in and claimed half their physical workspace and was now usurping part of their print-space too. _Surely_.

I rode straight to mum's without stopping. When I crossed the threshold I was greeted by Kieran, as always. "The prodigal daughter returns!" he bellowed down the hallway to mum who was evidently toiling away in the kitchen. For a would-be anarchist de-facto partnership, these two somehow fell into domestic role models with convenient ease. I suppose the patriarchal trend that mum was bucking when the 'wymyn' in our communal house had banned the banana from the rostered shopping list, was no longer threatening when she and Kieran were concerned.

Dinner was easier than usual too. Instead of mum monopolizing the conversation, Kieran nodding patiently and me drifting off on my own mental tangent as was typically the case, they both couldn't ask me enough questions about my day. What had Angie given me to do? What were my new workmates like? What would my next assignment be? Would I get tickets for them to anything decent? Did I survive the first day blitz? And also, why could I not stop smiling?

Truth was: I couldn't. And I wasn't fast enough to argue with them on that item either. I realized I'd been smiling so much my face ached. The muscles in my jaw were not used to the exercise.

"It's a good thing, love." Mum assured me after we had finished eating and Kieran and I shared a smoke outside while she looked on.

"Yeah kiddo, you're so much prettier when you smile." Added Kieran. "I just didn't think that being released from my evil dominion for a few days would render you so damn giddy."

"It's not, I… I like working with you Kieran – when you're not being a prick, that is." I nudged his arm playfully.

He nudged back "Well don't change the subject then. We barely saw you all weekend. Your mother and I may be old and decrepit but we're no fools Naomi. So tell us: what – or more specifically _who_ – is it that's got your spirits so uncharacteristically high then?"

I took a bottomless breath and glanced over at mum. Her eyes were oscillating between Kieran and me with what shocked me to interpret as a rather protective expression. She seemed genuinely worried that he might have overstepped. Still she was waiting to see if I'd answer.

_Be brave,_ I reminded myself. _This doesn't have to be a big deal. She's worth at least this. She deserves it, remember? You can take baby steps. You know your mum's ok. She's cool right? So just be brave Naomi: Say something… Fucking say something! Let it out before it just blows up in your face anyway._

"HernameisEmily." I blurted out as if one syllable.

Kieran gasped and grinned all at once. "I want to meet this mythical creature!"

I looked back at mum but she didn't waver. "Naomi love, I don't know why it took you so long to let on. I thought you'd trust me enough not to be scared of my reaction, darling. You know me better than that. I don't care if it's a boy, a girl, a job or jumping out of a sodding plane! Anything that makes you as cheerful as you seem to be today: for Christ's sake, just hold onto that already. And to hell with what other people think! Even your old mother."

I flicked the glowing butt of Kieran's rollie against the wall and pushed it into the dirt with my toe. Mum caught my hand and held onto it while she held my gaze.

"I'm serious love: The people who make us happy are never the people we expect. So when you find someone... you've got to cherish it."

"I know mum. You've never given me any reason to be afraid of your reaction. It's just that there was never anything to tell. Even now… I mean… it's no big deal. I don't want it to be a big deal. Like some announcement that has to be made-"

She cut me off before my rant grew too big for the porch we were standing on.

"Naomi, I don't care. You shouldn't care. All I worry about is the injustice and the intolerance that even today's society inflicts on anyone who breaks the mould. I should know."

I allowed myself to hug mum. She hugged me first, and she hugged me back. The tension floated away on the remnants of smoke from under the eaves. I lit up another cigarette and told mum and Kieran about the little redhead that had stumbled into my week. I told them about Eco-Fest, properly this time. I told them about the poetry reading. I told them about brunch Saturday and all of Sunday. I let it out; and it didn't blow up.

My memories of all these moments were vivid. Everything reminded me of my minstrel.

The night air smelled of smoke and I thought of her.

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><p><strong>Stay safe and much love to you all.<strong>


	16. Albert

**I genuinely struggle to wrap my head around the ripples this Fanfic business has sent across my life; in so many good ways and in the form of so many lovely connections. Anyway, enough mush from me: I'll get to the next chapter in an attempt to begin to make it up to all of you who read, enjoy, enjoy less, review, add alert and favourite.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own skins but I now own 7 tomatoes, 5 bananas, 4 baby zucchini, 2 mangoes and some herbs and stuff… for now.**

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><p>Thursday couldn't get here fast enough. Lara drove us both back to her place from work. We drove miles out of the way to Lara's grandparents' place to collect Albert. They had picked him up from school hours earlier and he was champing at the bit by the time we got there. It occurred to me then the silent lengths Lara went to on a daily basis to keep up this seemingly invisible routine.<p>

When we got back to the small townhouse, Albert slingshot out of the car like a rubber band. I caught up with him inside and found him rummaging around a wooden chest in his bedroom. As he pulled out the old faded pieces of a 'Meccano' set, Lara sung out from the kitchen.

"Dinner's in the fridge Naomi; there's enough for three. I'm just going upstairs to get ready, ok?"

"Cool bananas!" I returned. I couldn't help but smile at the boy who was now proudly showing me the bridge he had been assembling all week. Better than anything I could put together.

"I can't get this piece to work, see? 'Cause it's a suspension bridge. Granddad says it has to be in tension but I… look here… his set is missing the right gri-… the gird-…"

"Girder?" I volunteered.

"That one!" he grinned at me, freckles almost lighting up his face. Then his smile shifted and his eyes glazed over as he recalled "None of boys at school have a set this old so I can't get the right ones to finish it."

Nevertheless he grabbed hold of a spanner and started tightening a few bolts here and there. After a few seconds he looked up at me, still standing, still watching, still smiling. He smiled at me again and pushed the spanner into my hand. I sat down next to him and clumsily picked up where he'd left off while he added bits and pieces. He assembled and I tightened.

We tinkered for a half hour on the brightly coloured carpet until I heard a soft rap at the front door. Lara skipped down the last flight of stairs and passed me in the hall before I could make it to the doorknob. When the big slab of wood swung open it revealed a sheepish looking JJ, his hands behind his back.

He stood there a moment like a stunned mullet and then stumbled forward inexplicably. The reason soon came into view when a little red thing giggled and paced around from behind him. Lara hugged JJ warmly and he mumbled incoherently before collecting himself.

"Is Albert here?"

Lara furrowed her brow a little then smiled. "Oh, I see. Got your priorities right don't you? In his room: first door on the left." She waved her hand in that direction and ushered both of them in behind us. Emily climbed the stoop and finally got level with me. She traced her index down the length of my forearm and threaded her fingers through mine. As Lara led Jay to her son's room ahead of us, Emily snuck up alongside me and pecked me just under the jaw-line. I think that's as high as she could reach. It was fine by me.

We squeezed into the small room side by side to see JJ pulling four tiny green flat beams, one by one, from the boy's strawberry blonde locks. Albert gasped and beamed up at his teacher. Lara clasped a hand to her mouth and curled her fingers nervously, taking it all in.

Albert leapt up to show his mother the new treasures "Thanks mister Jones!" he cast at JJ before beckoning his mum's attention again.

"How did you…? Where did you find them?" Lara floundered. Four small pieces of metal in the hands of her boy were more tangible than any flowers her previous suitors had brought to her door on date one.

JJ stared at his left foot rather intently. "He's been asking the other kids at school to swap with him but nobody had them. I just happened to spot an old set at a garage sale last week but I couldn't give them to him at school. Because it wouldn't be fair to the other students… if they saw, I mean… I wouldn't want to single him out… make things complicated. It's important for children to feel a sense of fairness from the figures of authority. I mean I'm sure you know that… I'm not suggesting…"

Lara shut him up by wrapping her arms tightly around his shoulders and squeezing him with all her might.

Jay shuffled a little uneasily but soon relaxed in her limb-vice. Emily and I slipped quietly out of the room and fled into the kitchen to gauge the food situation. Lara had left a box of soft shell tortillas on the bench. I opened the fridge and pulled out a bowl of something that looked like chili and some veggies. _Looks like it's Mexican for dinner._

We had just started chopping the vegetables when JJ and Lara appeared in the archway, holding hands. "We're off," said Lara "Albert is still in his room, fixing the new girders… I've told him he has until dinner and then it's homework. Can you hold him to it?"

"No problem!" Emily chirped but barely looked up from the carrots that were meeting a gruesome shredded death at her hands.

The couple disappeared out of sight and we heard the solid sound of the door clunking behind them. Emily was at me in a flash. A carrot rolled off the counter and hit the floor. Her lips pushed me against the fridge as if I were quenching her thirst. "I missed you." She peppered my cheeks with smaller kisses. "I know it sounds silly, but I did." She returned to my lips and bit the bottom one gently. _Looks like it's Naomi for dinner! _"I'm sorry; child in the next room, I know." She pulled away feebly and brushed herself off, returning once more to the carrots.

Emily finished preparing the vegetables in small bowls and I set the table for three. I checked on Albert a couple of times though it only took us about twenty minutes. He was eagerly keeping himself occupied with his construction and didn't even look up at me when I peaked my head around the door jamb.

I returned to the kitchen, stripped the cling film off the bowl of chili and threw it in the machine that goes '_ping'_ for a few minutes. When everything was ready we called Albert to the table and sat down. I was famished! The three of us tucked in feverishly and it would have been difficult to tell which of us had the biggest appetite, what with all the eating sounds taking over any conversation for the majority of the meal. Albert did ask me who Emily was, though. _Christ,_ _Kids' natural curiosity! _I stammered. My diminutive champion came to my rescue immediately with the obvious answer.

"I'm Emily Fitch, I live with JJ- I mean… Mr Jones." She smiled warmly at the boy "It's nice to meet you Albert." That still didn't answer why she needed to be here with me when I'd babysat for him alone a few times before. But it was an answer. It was the truth, and at least now he could place her.

The boy returned her smile with a slightly skeptical look in his eye but didn't push the matter. _I liked this kid. Natural skepticism and a healthy ability to question authority; Lara had quite the little bundle on her hands. Gina used to tell me she still preferred my overzealous cynicism to some people's gullibility and utter naïveté. Well, maybe she didn't use those words. _

After dinner Albert grumbled a little but eventually got stuck into his homework. We set him up at the dinner table and offered to help.

"Nope." He waved us off "I'm fine thanks. Mister Jones prefers us to do our own homework anyway."

Our shoulders were still bouncing up and down when we emerged into the dark back yard.

Emily climbed up onto the trampoline that took up the majority of the modest patch of grass that was their garden. She perched on the edge of it with her legs dangling between the strings. She arched a childish eyebrow at me and patted the spot next to her. The taps of her hand sent little metallic zinging sounds zipping up and down the trampoline.

I inched closer and rolled onto the stretchy charcoal canvas. The momentum of my body shifted the weight balance on the tarp and Emily toppled onto her back alongside me. We lay there for a few minutes just gazing into the black canvas above. I tilted my head towards hers in the late dusk and saw her features outlined upside down as we lay head to toe. In this position my eyes were level with her lips. This was _not_ a good thing… bugger me.

Emily was the first to break the silence. She asked me about my Tuesday and I remained purposefully vague. She didn't need to know yet. I dithered. I shifted the focus to hers. So she told me about their rehearsal. They had been rehearsing mostly new original songs but she had also added a few Joni Mitchells, much to the boys' bellyaching.

"Cliché, I know." She admitted "But she's such a guilty pleasure of mine and I'm planning a cover of 'Big Yellow Taxi' now that we've gotten into the 'Solstice Festival' this December."

"That's great," I enthused, pretending to know what the hell she was talking about. _Solstice Festival… it did sound like it could be great._ "Congratulations!"

Emily read my confusion like a book, a very lame book. "It's a four day performing arts festival around the Winter Solstice; out near the coast. There's workshops, and several stages, and organic food stalls, and eco-faeries, and camping, and improv', blackboard open mics, and fireside stoned jam sessions and… just… it's awesome! I've been every year since Maxxie introduced me." Her voice raised at least an octave during that tirade. I could breathe in her excitement; it was palpable. I think she only broke off to refill her lungs with air. I let her re-inflate.

"Sounds like I should look into getting some tickets then." I smiled.

I saw the corners of her mouth twitch a little. "You definitely should. Don't worry about getting a camping pass though. The band has already been allocated an artists' pass so there will be plenty of room on our plot."

"Deal." I started working out plans involving Gina's three-man tent, Thomas and Panda, a carload of second-hand gear and probably a buttload of mud stains and sneezing by the end.

"Deal." she echoed softly. Her lips were hills and valleys, ridges and troughs; the skin of her cheeks was a stretch of field, smooth rolling acres, perfect for pitching a tent and staying the night. I could spend night after night on those soft knolls. My eyes wandered as far as they could from my vantage point. I tilted my head up a little to follow the stem of a vein that ran down her neck.

It dipped under her chin and shot down to meet her collarbone where I lost it under the –

Lips! Lips on mine! Moving slowly, agonizingly so. I blinked a few times in shock as my already limited vision went blank. _You don't need to see._

I closed my eyes and felt nothing but the delicate contact of where our mouths were joined. She didn't try to touch me. Knew she needn't, or shouldn't. She didn't try to wrap an arm around me. That would have been too awkward at this angle. She didn't even try to deepen the kiss. I _think_ that was a good thing. She just nipped at my bottom lip, quietly hummed and then nipped again. She repeated the process, like a ritual. I could feel the tickle of the warm breath from her nose under my chin but I wouldn't, couldn't budge an inch. I didn't move a muscle but for those engaged in our communion.

Minutes later, when she released her passive possession and gave me back to the land of the lucid, I sighed a deep breath and heaved myself upright. "I should go check on Albert."

I dusted myself off and hopped off our makeshift connection platform. My footsteps echoed pathetically across the patio and into the house. They followed me in, along with her gaze, hot on my heels.

The boy sat peacefully at the head of the table, twirling his pen around his thumb like a miniature baton and staring at a sheet of maths exercises. I approached with caution.

"How goes it here, buddy?"

Albert swiveled and looked up at me "Mmm… not too bad. I've finished set 3 and 4." he dropped his pen on the table "Just trying to solve number 5 and then I can do my history reading. What did you do with Emily?"

I cleared my throat and coughed into my hand. "She's just outside, on the trampoline." I supplied "Do you want anything from the kitchen?" _Distraction tactics fit for a child._ _That's it Naomi: try to outwit the clever-clogs seven year old who has JJ for a teacher._

"Grape juice please!... Mum doesn't let me play on the trampoline after dark."

I giggled "It's ok, we're not really playing." I went to the kitchen and poured a grape juice out for him. "Are you going to be ok here if I go back outside for a bit? You know where to find us if you need us." I set the cup down in front of him. He had resumed playing with his pen.

He didn't look up "Uh huh…" he mumbled. Looked like I was not needed here again. This kid discharged me like Angie had. I was starting to notice a pattern, a slightly frustrating pattern. So I headed back out to where I knew there was someone who, for some odd reason, wanted me to stay around.

I found Emily where I had left her, a raggy-doll sprawled across the trampoline, still with her legs dangling off the edge. She didn't shift much as I returned to my rightful position next to her. We lay side by side this time and I willed myself to take her hand. I clasped it tight to my side for reassurance against the fear in my belly that she herself had sparked.

After the whole of Sunday spent together and my text messages throughout the week, by all rights she should have been sick of me. The paralyzing comfort of such early domesticity did not make for a comfortable silence. The distant sound of cars passing by reminded me I was not in fact suspended in time. The emotions swilling around inside of me eventually found their way to my lips and out.

"Mum and Kieran have been pestering me to meet you. I told them to fuck off. But maybe… in a little bit… if you still want me around then…"

Emily laughed and brought our hands up to kiss the back of mine "Oh, no! After Sunday and tonight I'm sick of the bloody sight of you. In fact, I don't think I'll last much longer until your very voice makes me break out in hives!"

"Don't make fun of me!" I whined.

"Seriously Naoms, name the time and place and I'll be there. I'd just be happy to meet a mother who actually _wants_ to know me." Her voice was tinged with sadness. She changed the subject.

"So… you told them about me?"

"Uhm… yeah." I played it down. "Kinda had to, they made me. But… yeah. I guess I did."

She squeezed my hand a little tighter and wriggled around to kiss me on the cheek in quiet thanks.

"Anyway tell me, what about the Planeteers? How did that go?"

"Oh, it was good. Amazingly, I think I like that band of weirdoes." I told her all about Josh and 'Shell, about meeting Katherine, Miranda's photographer friend who was going back to Indonesia with her in a couple of weeks. Katherine was a little ball of energy. I could have sworn she was gay. She wasn't. She had been telling us about the boyfriend she would be leaving behind and who was pondering a trip to Canada in the meantime. I guess my gaydar needed tuning.

Handsome Liam and Charlotte hadn't made it; I was a bit disappointed about that. Aidan on the other hand was there, sullen as ever. I had spent the majority of the evening chatting with Miranda and sharing my feelings of novice intimidation with Lilly. Josh pulled me aside as we were leaving the Sleepout and mentioned he was floating the idea of a correspondent in Goa as an upcoming eight month posting. _Was I interested?_

By the time I had finished waffling on I realized it had gotten cold out. A little quiver from Emily's side of the trampoline was enough to assure me of that fact. I tugged on her hand and helped her off the towering structure. We were still holding hands when we stepped in to the dining room. I let go of her though before rounding Albert and peering down at the book in front of him. He was onto History: the Norman Conquest. Colourful illustrations punctuated the chapter. Albert's finger was pushed steadily at the page and travelled down the lines of text at a decent speed. He looked up at me for a second and smiled before getting back to the passage that awaited him.

I led us to the lounge and flicked on the TV in the background. I pulled the door closed behind us to shield the sound of the tube from the studying boy beyond. We plonked down on the couch and started watching some dumb video hits show. I couldn't find the damn remote. I ran my hands up and down the gaps between the cushions, reached over her to the low table beside her armrest. I fidgeted, I was uneasy ok?

Emily huffed after I had squirmed around for a full five minutes and grabbed my chin between her thumb and forefinger. She steadied my motions and squared me in the eyes until I stilled completely. Her irises stared me down and dared me. I had to.

I dipped my head swiftly and captured her lips in a frustrated kiss. What was it about this girl that seemed to command me like a voodoo doll? I didn't like not being the master of my own thoughts and actions. But it was better than sitting there and _not _kissing her. I felt my body push into hers and she relinquished her hold on my chin to drop her hands to my waist. I sensed my legs twisting under me as I leaned in further. My hands crept up her stomach and splayed under the hem of her thin shirt.

She pushed my shirt up my back as I soon found myself on top of her. No control. My muscles were responding to external stimuli beyond me. I was reduced to a marionette. No control. My body moved instinctively, my mind merely observed the progression of events. It was refreshing: this 'do first, think after' thing. _I should try it more often. _My hands tugged her shirt further upwards to reveal her belly button. It too was eyeing me off tauntingly. I slid down and kissed the skin there; I berated the flesh and the muscles within for their wretched hold on me. Her hands slipped around me and up to my shoulders as I came back up to see her eyes again.

We breathed ragged at each other while I stared her down for as long as I could, trying to comprehend. Her arms snaked around my neck. That drove me wild. I bit her lip, a little. Ok maybe a lot.

She drew in a sharp intake of breath and clawed her nails into the back of my collar.

"Wait, Naoms… What about Albert?"

I strained my ears, listening out for sounds of the child in the next room. Nothing. Except maybe the faint scratching of a pen or the crisp sound of a page turning.

"He's fine… You saw him; he's captivated."

She pulled me in again and our lips connected once more. If she'd been giving me an out, she seemed relieved I didn't take it. If she was genuinely concerned about the kid barging in on us, she was deferring to me as to whether that was ok. The perfect gentleman, only… not. And that's not who I wanted beneath me right now.

I readjusted on the couch and slid my left leg between Emily's. _What the fuck are you doing? You have no idea! Shut up Naomi… be brave. Switch off the over-thinking machine._

I traced a thumb over her cheekbone. She smiled.

I ran it down her jaw-line and under her chin. She strained against it and closed her eyes.

It ghosted down her neck and into the dip above her sternum. She tilted her head back into the cushions and breathed in smoothly.

I landed it there with a kiss and she pushed her head sideways and moaned a little.

The sound of the TV was a distant buzz. All I could hear were the sounds of Emily's breath, the tiny wordless pleas from the back of her throat and the jingle of keys in the door!

"Christ! What time it is?" I bolted upright.

Emily sat up between my legs and cast an eye at her watch. "Just gone 10pm." She stuttered sheepishly.

We made it to the hallway in time to see Lara and JJ walk in the front door. I snuck a peak at Albert who was still studiously hunched over his textbook. JJ looked more comfortable on Lara's arm than he had been when they left. They reached us in the hallway and Lara hugged us both. Ok, so she might have been a little tipsy but JJ would not have had anything to drink. I think he was just elated by her proximity.

We all moved into the kitchen after Lara had gathered her son's books and sent him off to bed.

"Sorry JJ, he may not have finished his history write-up tomorrow to his liking." She joked.

JJ was giving Emily and I the once-over. He said nothing. But his eyes clearly read: _Why are you so disheveled? Albert's not the type of kid to run you ragged._ Like I said: thankfully, he said nothing. Though I think the boy was genuinely perplexed at the reason behind our ruffled appearance.

Lara was opening her purse and pushing quid at me "Thanks again Naomi, you're a gem to have done this on short notice."

I shoved the money back into her purse clumsily. "Don't be stupid Lara; we barely had to do anything! He's the most low maintenance babysit I've ever done." _Besides, I'd had help this time._ "We didn't even have time to put him to bed because you two were home so early… Really!"

"Well, it _is _a school night." JJ provided.

Lara accepted the notes back with a grumble."Well you were still here to keep an eye on him and make sure he came to no harm. So thanks."

"Our pleasure!" Beamed Emily from my side. "Anyway Jay's right; it _is _a school night so we should be going."

"Right! Good night Miss Llo- Lara." He stumbled. "Naomi, need a lift back to yours?"

I nodded. Emily grabbed her friend by the shoulder and led him swiftly towards the door. As she passed me with her back to the other two, I got a sly wink and that was all. I followed the two of them out as Lara watched us from the top of the hall.

The car ride home was mercifully short, because it was anything but sweet. I sat there in the front seat of JJ's car and milled through the proceedings in my head._ How very fucking Babysitters' Club of you Campbell: making out on the couch with your girlfriend. Christ!... Girlfriend? Well… at least it wasn't some pimply boy from school I'd been snogging, and I hadn't had to sneak her in. I was an adult and the master of my own life. Well except when she was in control. No control… Ugh!_

They dropped me off on my stoop and Emily skirted around the car to claim the front seat from me. As we passed in the dim light of the streetlamp she whispered huskily into my ear. "See you tomorrow, lover."


	17. Father Time

**Ok, I'm kinda cheating, I know. But I do think time is a legitimate character in this narrative, so there: new chapter title! Also I wanted to make this important chapter more of an insight into Emily, her passion for song, rhythm and melody. You'll see what I mean (I hope) especially when we get to about… hmmm I'm guessing about two thirds of the way through.**

**Granny, school, work, operating-heavy-machinery warning on this one: at long last… Oh look now I've gone and spoiled the 'surprise'! :)  
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**Thanks again to Hyperfitched for patiently reading through the entire chapter and providing detailed notes. Hypes, I could write without you hun, but I don't think I'd have the courage to fully give birth to a chapter like this without your literary midwifery. So this one's for you, with my heartfelt thanks and admiration– on a side note: is it ok to dedicate a rather racy chapter such as this one to someone you're not having wild passionate sex with youself? Ahem… I'm new at this shit; anyone feel free to tell me if it's a faux-pas. ;) Hypes you know I mean it platonically.  
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**Disclaimer 1: I did not offer this up for a second proofing after her first analysis so if there is still anything in here that rubs anyone the wrong way: blame me! :)  
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**Disclaimer 2: I don't own skins but do own the few song references I've indulgently thrown into this chapter. Well I don't own the songs either, but the ideas for each insert are all mine.**

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><p>The morning started like any other; the day continued, same as always. Planets revolved in their orbits and the long hand ticked around stubbornly, in its own time.<p>

Deliveries were made. Trucks unloaded, beep beep beeped and reversed in back parking lots. Birds chirped from their perches in the dwindling surrounding trees. The sun tracked its course against the horizon, playing its circle game with the moon; no winners, not today at least.

Big dogs barked and small dogs yapped at passers-by, fiercely defending their owners from the safety of their picket fenced yards. Cats by the thousands would make their way indecisively in and out of cat-flaps five hundred twenty-five thousand six-hundred and more times, by the time the day was out. Children were marched to school and lollipop-ladies brandished their protest placards against speedsters reading '_Stop_'. But time didn't listen, couldn't read, wouldn't stop. It moved obstinately onwards, master of itself.

I went to work and whiled away the weary hours, waiting, wanting. I worked myself into a tizzy noticing patterns everywhere, distracting myself with stupid word games in my writing. The distraction was sneaky enough to fuel itself I must say. I was indeed sufficiently agitated by the time I reached lunch that I had sent my soup bowl flying with a slightly too vigorous spoon thrust. The patchy colourful blouse I had carefully selected that morning, because it would be suited to both work and going straight to Sans-Souci, now had one more coloured blotch on it: Gina's-pumpkin-and-lentil-soup brown.

I cut my lunch break short and returned to Agatha to pilfer my car-drobe for a clean top. I found only my pig shirt. That would have to do. At least I had a jumper to wear over it tonight so it wouldn't be revealed in all its random hideousness. During the course of the afternoon I earned a snort of laughter from Hobbsy at the grinning porcine face on my chest, a knowing smirk from Kieran and a frighteningly genuine "Cool shirt!" from Ailsa. I think she assumed the shirt was meant as absurdist satire. Angie didn't comment; she was far too busy tearing my latest review to shreds and rebuilding it piece by piece into something printable.

By the end of a long work day, marking the end of an increasingly long work week I paced up to the front door of Sans-Souci in fitted jumper, jeans and heels. Emily opened the door and greeted me in almost matching garb. Katie _must_ have helped her pick out those shoes though. There was no way Emily would have chosen such high heels for herself. Not that they didn't look lovely on her, and they compensated conveniently for the difference in our heights when she leaned in to kiss me 'hello'.

I followed her inside as she raced back towards the kitchen to fiddle with stove knobs and colanders. I had to admit I was nervous. This was a date, an official date; I didn't really do dates. And to make matters worse this was happening at her place, on her turf and possibly amongst her housemates coming and going. Still, the sight of her wiggling her bum as she pranced about the kitchen to Sia on the stereo went some way to making up for this one-sided arrangement. More distraction for today, the good kind.

Nevertheless I couldn't help myself asking about the housemate situation. "So, who will be at Sans-Souci tonight?" I quipped.

She winked at me. "Chris and Jal are out. Sid is too, Cass has a gig to supervise at the Arnolfini so that'll be where he is. JJ is in; I think he's in his room, working on lesson plans for next week already, most likely. Eff and Freddie… God knows! They could be anywhere. Might see them later on." She shrugged matter-of-factly at that last comment, as if that weren't a big deal.

One look at my tense shoulders, still propping up my satchel, however and her expression changed. It went from one of flippant jest to a more serious and considerate understanding. She set down the wooden spoon directly on the counter, leaving a messy half-ring of wine-red sauce on the marbled white laminated countertop and walked back to me. I had not entered past the sliding door of the kitchen and instead stood, quite gormless, under the pelmet. She placed a hand on each of my shoulders and locked eyes with me.

"It doesn't matter Naoms, I've set a private table in the den for us. Well… it's not really a table, you'll see." Her eyes were kind and warm like melted chocolate, the expensive dark stuff you dip strawberries in or use to ice a cake. I melted in return at her reassuring efforts. She had anticipated my being me and created us a cocoon of comfort, away from the prying eyes of everyone else.

I shrugged my bag off and reached into the front pouch, pulling out the folded top and skirt I had washed to return to Emily. "Now, as requested, I didn't bring anything. But I did wash these and-"

No sooner had she spotted the clothes that she cut across me. "Aw! Thanks honey, you shouldn't have. They're so purdy; I just love 'em!" She affected her best southern drawl.

Her untied mop of scarlet curtained loosely around her face as she bowed in thanks and tossed them carelessly onto the nearest couch. She mimicked the 'swoosh' of a slam dunk as she did so while the clothes landed in a crumpled heap, millimeters away from falling off the armrest completely.

"She shoots, she scores!" Em clamoured with pride and sashayed back to the stovetop.

I stifled an amused snort at her unfettered and somewhat shameless antics. I wasn't sure if this clowning around was her attempt to cut the tension and make me at ease or just an extension of what I'd seen so far of her infectious personality. Either way I think I loved her a little for it.

I drained the pasta while she finished the sauce. She met me in the middle with bowls. We waltzed around the small room as if choreographed in a neat rhythm. I heaped a generous helping into each dish and she spooned rich ruby dollops onto each portion. She picked a bottle of red from a rack beside the fridge and scooped up the borrowed clothes on our way out the door. I followed, as ever, plates in hand.

When we emerged at the top of the stairs, I could make out a warm glow from behind her open door. I walked in behind her and was amazed by the sight within.

A bed sheet had been laid out over the central carpet as a makeshift picnic blanket. Two place settings had been laid out facing one another. A circle of tea-light candles had been lit around the whole scene. There were a lot of them but they were the only light in the room.

"Jeez, fire hazard much Em?" I exclaimed.

She blushed. "Too much?"

"Never! I love me a good old cliché, sappy romantic display." I lied. Only this time it wasn't such a lie. I found the lengths she had gone to extremely endearing and, I had to admit, the resulting atmosphere was rather lovely.

"It's beautiful Ems." I said.

"_You're_ rather beautiful." She returned. It was my turn to blush.

She took the plates from my idle hands and placed them onto the sheet before crouching down in front of me. "Now come on and sit down. Let's eat, I'm fungry!" She grinned and grabbed a fork.

I sat opposite her and crossed my legs, mirroring her actions. "Fungry?"

"Yeah 'fungry', you know: as in 'fucking hungry'…" she said around her first mouthful of penne. She tilted her head from side to side as you do when you've been too eager to eat and the food is still too hot. "Kinda like 'fugly'… No?"

"Uhm… Sure." I stammered incredulously. I had to laugh at this new idiosyncrasy of hers. I'd learned two new things about her just like that and I already liked them both. One: she enjoyed her food so much that she couldn't possibly wait for it to cool. And two: she made up her own words and expected other people to understand them. I filed both away in my bright red Emily-catalogue.

We bantered over dinner and basked in the warmth of the wine. Throughout it all this force of a woman grew increasingly intoxicating. Her utter sincerity was disarming; layer upon layer was shed until she sat before me naked of all pretense. When we reached desert she began spontaneously throwing her blueberries into the air one by one and catching most of them in her mouth. The others rolled across the rug and along the ageing knotted floorboards. She had drunk two thirds of our shared bottle.

"No more wine for me." she said as she dropped the eighth berry in as many minutes. She tipped the empty bottle upside down over my glass and three drops fell to the bottom. "So, can you play?" she probed, jerking her head in the direction of the mezzanine behind me.

I followed her gaze and saw she was now pointing towards her guitar case, just visible between the balusters. "Poorly" I admitted. "One of our 'lodgers' taught me a few chords, back when mum was still doing the communal living bullshit. He called himself Jesus." I recalled rather fondly now. "He was a huge fan of 60's folk and original rhythm and blues. So they're the only songs I learned. Mum chucked everybody out before I got any good though."

She raised up onto her knees. "Show me?"

"No way! I've seen you play, and I already know I'm crap. I didn't come here to embarrass myself."

"Oh come on, everything once right?"

I looked back at the guitar and allowed myself a furtive smile while my back was turned. When I came back to face her I heaved a sigh and pushed myself up. "Fine, I'll go ahead and disappoint you."

I extended my hand to her and drew her the rest of the way up, leading her to the top of the mezzanine like she had done to me less than a week ago. I reached the guitar and went to pick up the heavy case. My fingers brushed over the valley on its flank right by the handle before I took hold of it. That's when I noticed a new paper clipping next to the now familiar 'Be brave' sticker. Roughly cut out and pasted onto the wall of the case was my first official review, _Poetry in Motion at the Arnolfini_. There were my twelve-hundred words, sandwiched between my silly heading and my by-line at the bottom.

I faltered a little but sat on the bed and undid the latch, picking up the guitar and laying the case gently aside. Emily settled on the desk chair adjacent and rested her chin on her tiny balled fists, eagerly awaiting my self-inflicted humiliation.

My fingers hovered over the frets, trying to remember the intro… G, A, B… _she's watching me… _C/E, G, E, C… _mental blank, ugh!…_ B/Eflat, A… _concentrate Campbell…_ D… Eflat, F, Eflat, D.

I worked into the fuzzy chord progression as my fingers caught on the strings and hooked clumsily between bars. When I chanced a furtive glance upwards I saw smiling eyes locked on my every stumble, slip and mistake.

_Stars shining bright above you;  
>Night breezes seem to whisper 'I love you'<br>Birds singing in the sycamore tree._

"_Dream a little dream of me." _Emily joined in.

I approached the second verse slightly more confident. Still with eyes frozen on my hands for fear of breaking the spell that kept the melody clear. Emily took a harmony I didn't even know existed. I continued to play and sing, a pale counterpart to her own voice, boldly sailing around the main melody and reinventing the song. I let her take the bridge, I'd let her take it all. _  
><em>

When I finished she clapped modestly but candidly; her encouragement felt honest and humble, regardless of her own talent which clearly dwarfed mine. Instead of reassuring me though, I found her attention had me growing increasingly flustered. This jumper was definitely starting to feel superfluous. I began to set the instrument down but then thought better of it. "Now it's your turn; I want to be serenaded." I held the guitar out to her.

She waved it off with a flick of her hand as she got up. "Nope, you're not finished. I want another: you _said _'songssss'." She accentuated the plural with a hiss.

I rolled my eyes at her but she just stood there pouting. This girl could go from cute to sexy and back to cute with infuriating ease and speed. "Very well then." I sighed "You're a hard one to please, Fitch."

"You'd be surprised." She retorted mysteriously, wriggling both eyebrows in a filthy smirk. Only she could move that many muscles in her face and still make it look effortless.

The second song I was even less confident about. I hadn't planned to pull it out of my quiver. I mentally scanned my limited repertoire for a suitable track and decided on a slow one. 'Fever' _Yeah, nice and repetitive chords. That should make things a bit easier._

I started to play; Emily instantly recognized the tune and started swaying, clicking her fingers to the infamous rhythm. After eight interminable bars she started to sing for me.

_Never know how much I love you,  
>Never know how much I care.<em>

She sashayed her hips playfully and shimmied, pursing her lips at me. A few false notes rang out. Emily cocked her head and pulled her jumper over her shoulders and off. Then to my astonishment: she continued clicking fingers, _and continued to strip!_ More dissonant chords broke out of the soundhole.

_When you put your arms around me  
>I get a fever that's so hard to bear.<br>You give me fever_

She kicked off her shoes one by one and they hit the wall with a loud 'clunk'. She thumbed the strap of her top off her left shoulder, then her right.

_When you kiss me,  
>Fever when you hold me tight,<br>Fever –_ (she punctuated the beat with a joking hip thrust) _– in the morning,  
>Fever all through the night.<em>

The hem of the shirt lifted past her adorable belly button but didn't stop. Before the next line it was up over her bra, shoulders, head. She swung it a brief moment over her head, playing the cliché to its full potential. It joined her jumper on the floor by the bed. I was starting to regret not taking mine off, pig shirt or not. She sang on, all the while running her thumb inside the waist of her jeans. This had definitely progressed beyond lighthearted teasing, I was beyond flustered, and she was beyond fucking sexy.

_Sun lights up the day time,  
>Moon lights up the night.<br>I light up when you call my name_  
>'<em>cause you know I'm gonna treat you right.-<em>

I couldn't hold up the façade any longer and still continue to play. My mask dropped to the floor, along with the guitar. It made a dull hollow sound as it hit the ground. My hands gripped the sides of her jeans by the loops and pulled her forcefully to me. We locked lips instantly and she brought her hands up to my face to cup my cheeks and push at strands of hair with the backs of her fingers. She still tasted of blueberries and wine.

Her tongue pushed into my mouth without seeking permission. Fuck it! She had already laid waste to all defenses anyway. I had surrendered, white flag and all, pathetically hers. I welcomed the warmth of her tongue with mine for as long as I could bear. I was fucking boiling! _That's it! This jumper is coming off! _We parted the length of a frantic breath of air and I wrenched the offending article off my frame.

I had let her start something I no longer wanted to stop. She helped me out of my shirt without a second thought. Before long she was on top of me and halfway on the bed. I eased her up the rest of the way with the tight grip I still had around her jeans. She giggled girlishly. She was even lighter than I'd expected.

Both our jeans were the next things to go, exposing matching pastel briefs to her bra. I was surprised at how innocent she looked in this choice of underwear. I didn't have time to dwell on this too long though as she deftly flicked the strip of my bra with a single hand, ridding me of all previous thoughts of her innocence. Despite the decreasing quantity of clothes, the warmth radiating from my centre and pulsating through me was enough to fuel a furnace. I fumbled with her bra; I was unsuccessful. She reached behind her own slender ribcage and undid the clasp, freeing her beautiful breasts for me.

I froze at the sight before me. Their smallish size did nothing to hinder the overwhelming power they had. Like the power she had to render me a bumbling twit, I discovered her breasts had the power to render me speechless. I filed that away in the growing Red Binder of Emily too.

The burning redhead above me lowered her mouth to my own breast and delicately closed her lips around my nipple. _Sweet fucking god almighty!_ Endorphins rushed, synapses fired, and misfired.

Her hand was hovering just above my knickers, this time awaiting permission. I reached down and pushed it between my legs, under the already damp fabric of my pants. She uttered the first three spoken words to me since her strategic striptease. "Are you sure?"

I nodded my consent in silence and felt her fingers curl expertly against the insane wetness she had already created. If an understanding of music and rhythm had taught her to dance like a pro, years of practice at the guitar had given her the most nimble fingers I could ever have dreamed. She thrummed lazily against my clit, first softly and cautiously as if she were still afraid of breaking me.

But soon she grew more daring. I tangled my hands in her hair and pulled her selfishly back to my chest. She took this as final indication I had made up my mind; my resolve was only growing stronger in the face of her skillful touches. Soon she was building a slow but steady rhythm and I forgot to worry about asinine things like how pasty my skin was, my lack of experience, or even what anybody would think. I forgot to remember to be Naomi Campbell, worry-wart and pedant extraordinaire, she had made me Naomi, just Naomi.

Her lips marked each verse her hand wrote with a feather-light kiss to my breasts, my chest, my neck. She worked her way up to my earlobe and nibbled the soft flesh there. Breaths between the notes she was strumming against me.

But just when I thought I could hardly contain the sounds that were threatening to burst out of me, she modulated, transposed into a completely different key. Her own breathing had grown heavier with the effort and the emotion; she pushed herself into me with the weight of her hips as she entered me. I screwed my eyes tightly shut and bit down on her neck on impulse. She hissed through her teeth and returned the favour. There would be a mark on my earlobe tomorrow.

The penetrating rhythm of her fingers barreled ahead with my heartbeat. It hammered in my chest and my head and my belly and bones. The vibrations reached places her fingers couldn't. All sensible thought had long left my cognitive brain. I was a bumbling, quivering, melting mess of raw nerve endings, exposed and throbbing at her in the most vulgar way. And for once, for fucking once, I didn't care.

She accelerated her thrusts, her thumb still pressed fiercely against my clit. Both pain and pleasure were excruciating. The swelling inside me threatened to undo me completely; I clawed at her back and flung my head wildly from side to side. Words were no longer a matter of choice. I had no composure left to sensor myself. A string of expletives replaced my usual protracted sentences. It tumbled out of my mouth and filled the room around us, padding the harsh leaning walls peering down at our sweaty bodies. Emily was building me up and I was the willing instrument to her every whim and will.

As my swansong rose to its climax Emily knew it was coming. Of course she did, she was orchestrating the whole thing. She was fucking inside me! And not just physically, though I'm sure she could feel my every muscle spasm and twitch uncontrollably. She redefined 'under my skin'; she was right… there… with me. She hovered over me, staring into my eyes like she was reading the score. I clutched at the sheets and twisted them into ribbons. Just then, she curled her fingers inside me and sent me flying. I came in a theater of light and an orchestra of sound. I must have screamed the house down, or maybe no sound came out, I can't be sure. All I remember is raw reflex and instinct taking over. Cerebral Naomi was gone. My hips bucked violently into her, my brain and vision went blank. I was on desperate autopilot. I flung my arms around her as my eyes rolled back; I clung onto her for dear life as the beauty she was showing me completely obliterated me.

And yet time was still relentless. I held no chance of beating it. It didn't let me keep my clenched fists and clasping fingers wrapped around that precious moment. Everything being as transient as it must, I came freefalling down, landing gently in my lover's arms. And so I held on to the only thing I could, my Emily. The one person that had just been there with me; she brought me back. As I breathed in and out, trying to catch my breath, my other senses returned one by one. It was like waking up in a strange bed and taking in new surroundings. I guess I was. First I began to notice smells: the delicate floral perfume in the crook of her neck, now partly masked by sweat. I opened my eyes reluctantly and saw tiny coloured sparks float across my field of vision and settle as I adjusted to the soft light again. I heard the creaking sounds of the old house, people were home; the house was still there, Bristol was still there. The faint noise of steady traffic, always traffic – to which we now regulate our lives – filled in the background. Suddenly I felt a little selfish for wishing so hard the world would just stop, and give me time, more time.

I felt Emily's chest rise and fall on top of mine. I ran my fingers along the length of each of her ribs and explored the bones and flesh and skin that made her human. A mighty powerful human, but a human nonetheless. One made of organic matter, subject to the laws of time as well. She hummed and nestled a little deeper into my shoulder. She wouldn't always look like this. Her skin would weather and her hair would fade, perhaps she'd dye it a completely different colour, but that's what made this moment so precious. All too soon she shifted off me and reclaimed her fingers, kissing me tenderly on the corner of the mouth.

"Good night" she murmured as she settled back into my neck, her voice was even huskier than usual. It sounded like she'd been screaming for me.

I stared up at the ceiling, still collecting my bearings, cataloging the moment, thinking about how we had gotten here, the progression of the night. I played the whole thing back in my head: dinner, the wine, desert, a couple of poorly performed songs, half a devilish strip-tease and one phenomenal orgasm.

She sensed I had stopped moving and pushed herself up just enough to look at me. "We'll deal with the cleanup in the morning." she smiled. I hugged her impossibly tighter and heaved out a final sigh.

She maintained contact the whole length of our bodies and lay into my side as if, like me, she didn't want to let go of the moment so she held on to me. I pulled the covers over us when I felt her shiver a little. She traced lazy damp circles across my stomach with her free hand and I counted them. They were my new unit of measure. I could almost calculate her sleepiness as they grew smaller and more irregular until they ceased completely.

Despite my own exhaustion, I fought sleep for as long as I could, trying to stave off the ephemeral feeling of peace that I was sure would be gone in the morning. I wanted to watch her drift off into well-earned wonderful dreams. Before I nodded off, I silently prayed I could be the cause of her sleepy happiness, and not just for tonight.

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><p><strong>*Pants* - Pfew! Ok, so this is turning out to be not such a "short dalliance" as I'd anticipated in my author's note for the first chapter. <strong>

**But as you all know, the story tends to weave its own path; still I got here in the end. I shall keep writing until I stop enjoying this or until it reaches its logical/natural conclusion (I have a fair bit more planned in this head of mine). And I am enjoying it more and more with every chapter and every review, especially now that Naomi has pulled her head out of her arse (so to speak). So the loyal ones amongst you might find yourselves reading for quite a while.**

_**Hah! Suffer! **_***Insert Em's best throaty laugh - **_**here**_*****

**As always: please take care of yourselves and each other. :)**


	18. Thomas

**Good evening, morning, afternoon… whatever time it so happens to be in your corner of the world, lovely people. If you've clicked yourself onto this page: it is now a brisk Bristol morning in the land of Skins.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own skins but… insert witticism **_**here**_** for comedic effect.**

**Disclaimer 2: As per the majority of my chapters, unless otherwise indicated, no beta. Ergo - please feel free to disregard any typos but kindly point out any larger issues for improvement.**

**I hope you all enjoy.**

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><p>I don't sleep naked, I just don't. It's not me. Normally I can't stand feeling that exposed – down there… This was an exception though. I lay there languidly watching the exception to my every rule, sleeping beside me. As I surfaced with the sunrise, I had found myself incapable of leaving the warmth and comfort that was Emily Fitch. She was sprawled out on her stomach, legs akimbo with one arm tossed over my abdomen, the most uncanny impersonation of a human swastika I've ever witnessed. My mind wandered back through one of Gina's rants about the original icon being a Sanskrit symbol of good luck and peace, before all that horrid genocide business made its connotation so ugly. But this girl made the awkward shape look beautiful again. My exception could make everything look beautiful and new again.<p>

The peaceful expression on her little face belied the apparent discomfort of her position and the awkward angle of her limbs. She wrinkled her nose a few times in her sleep but I knew she was still deep in slumber from the steady stream of air that made a few brilliant red locks dance in the dawn light on the pillow between us. The sun was the same in a relative way but things were different. I was different. I was no virgin before this, but she had shown me things I hadn't known were there to see.

The early morning light was an unforgiving white, showing me things I'd missed in the heat and haze of last night. A small moon-shaped scar on the crest of her right shoulder, a slightly darker pigmentation birthmark on the inside of the arm that was draped around me. Small imperfections that made her my unique half of the twinset.

I fought my desire to wake her up and explore more of the marks on her skin, hidden under the sheet. Instead I just stayed there, as still as I could, and counted the details like the minutes. She stirred a little in her sleep while I did, giving me new angles and more surface to study. She showed off her tattoo, the two asymmetric dimples either side of her spine when the sheet pulled across her lower back. Another scar, more irregular than the first, on the back of her hand. My eyes searched lower as the supple rise of her bum barely clung to the sheet for modesty. I watched her ribcage rise and fall. I watched her eyes quiver behind heavy lids. I watched her fingers twitch erratically as she slept on.

Was it creepy for me to watch her sleep like this? I didn't much care; I was fascinated by this creature. Her quirks and the things that nobody else got to see. Like how in the last 20 minutes she had wriggled her way into a soft Emily-centered sheet rollup. Leaving me scarcely covered at all. I raised the arm that wasn't trapped under my sleep octopus and pinched the sleep out of my eyes. The tickling sensation that started in my nose went through my sinuses before I could control it. I tilted my head away from Emily just in time for the unavoidable sneeze.

When I turned to face her again, two brown eyes fluttered open at me. I saw intermittent flickers of affection and amusement in them between repeated blinks. Her mouth curled up into a lazy half smile. "Bless you." She mouthed and yawned unabashedly in the same breath.

"Your fault." I nudged her gently with my elbow. "Blanket hog! I'm cold."

She pushed her bottom lip out in a teasing pout and dragged her free arm up my chest, splaying her fingers over the soft skin of my tit. The goose-bumps worsened. "Oh yeah?" she circled my nipple suggestively with a single finger "Then move closer."

I shifted off my back and came to face her, being careful not to disturb her hand. I looked down at it, playing on my hard nipple, raised against the sharp warmth of her touch in the cold morning air. I couldn't hide my own smile when I locked eyes with her again. Emily ran her thumb under the curve of my breast as I wriggled closer into her so that our noses were almost touching. She craned up to place a kiss on each of my eyelids.

"Sleep ok?" she asked.

"I did, yeah." I slid three fingers between her skin and the sheets and tugged. "But you're still hogging the warmth."

She rolled on top of me. All of a sudden I wasn't cold anymore. "Better?" she teased. I rolled my eyes at her._ Yes, so much better! _I thought.

I chose to avoid the question. "You know you moan in your sleep?"

"I _do not!_" she protested.

"Oh but you do!" I persisted. "Last week I thought it might have been a one off, but you were at it again this morning. What were you dreaming about?"

Her eyes flickered to the side. "I don't remember…"

I was torn between my instinct to keep things safe and conversational and my awareness of an almost naked Emily on top of a completely naked me, with only a sheet between us.

"A likely story." I baited her. _I'm not sure which instinct I was following there. _

Emily didn't rise to the bait; or rather she didn't _say_ anything in response. She shifted her weight off me for an instant and pulled the sheet out from between us in one smooth motion, like a parlour magician swiping the tablecloth from underneath the crockery without disturbing the settings. When she came back to rest on top of me I could feel the warmth of her skin in full contact. The sensation of her small but firm tits pressed into mine was the most amazing feeling I could imagine. Until her lips met mine and she let out a contented sigh into my mouth. My jaw dropped open, giving her tongue full reign, and our innocent morning interplay took a distinct turn.

Right then, I remembered I actually had limbs. I brought my arms around my naked minstrel and hugged her to me while she made me forget my last name again. Actually all I could remember was Emily. _Emily, Emily, Emily, Emily, Emily… _I silently chanted, letting her name roll off my tongue as it moved against hers. My knee rose of its own accord between her legs and she pressed herself onto my thigh in return. I could feel the dampness of her only remaining garment against my bare skin. I as instantly wet for her. I had to pull away for a frantic breath.

"How do you do that to me?"

"Do what?" she asked, her eyes searching mine. She seemed genuinely perplexed.

I wasn't sure how to explain. "I pride myself on my composure. Some people even think I'm frigid. And you just… I don't know… you just make that fly right out the fucking window. "

"Oh…" she blushed a little. It was adorable. "Well I don't know either… I'm glad though." She smiled at me and the lusty teenage boy in me transformed instantly into a gushing, lovesick girl. "Maybe I just know where the right buttons are and how to push them." She added, sliding down onto my knee and flicking her tongue across my left nipple without warning. _Just like that, the horny teenager was back._

"You… might be… right." I managed to get out before giving up on the impending deep-and-meaningful and giving in to the imminent deeper pleasure rising within me. I let Right-brain Naomi and Left-brain Emily come together. Our hips writhed together as Emily grabbed both my hands and raised them above my head. She stopped a moment over me and her eyes darted between my tits like she wasn't sure which one to talk to first. She picked the right. _Oh, God yes!_ My right nipple instantly began to harden against her lips. This was nothing like my drunken fumble with Sofia. My body was responsive. And my mind was in agreement. It wanted this, it wanted _her._ _I _wanted her.

"I want you." The three words I'd been afraid of uttering until now came out unbidden. _Yes, stop the presses! Naomi Campbell wants another human being. The same Naomi Campbell who didn't need anyone._ My eyes pleaded with hers as she looked up at me. I wanted her to understand. I didn't just 'want' her in the...let's say 'carnal' sense. Though that was undeniable; but she knew that. She could tell from the small pool between my legs as she pushed her leg into my pussy. I 'wanted' her around. I 'wanted' her to be a part of my life. And I 'wanted' her to want me back the same way.

She snaked her hands down my arms and up my neck to cup my cheeks. She stared me right in the eyes, like I'd seen Lara do to Albert when she wanted him to know she was serious.

"I want you too." She said simply.

I had to kiss her; I didn't have any other option. This kiss was less urgent than last night's. There was less need behind it. It just said 'I'm glad we're on the same page.' Don't get me wrong; there was still plenty of desire there. But it didn't have the pressing need to satisfy a missing craving. It was exploring rather than possessive, curious rather than aggressive.

In the spirit of exploration, my hands ventured down from the bed-head and started roaming along the curves of my redhead. I trailed my palms down the sides of her ribcage. She shivered a little when they traced over her flanks, making their way towards her gorgeous bum. I squeezed her cotton clad cheeks playfully and pulled her further into me. She retaliated in kind, nipping at my jaw and running her thumb over each kiss like she was smoothing them into my skin and letting it absorb them. She continued down my neck in the same fashion. _She was onto me, I never should have told her about my 'neck thing'. She was using it against me. Sneaky bitch! _I whimpered her name in accusation. That only seemed to spur her on. She ran the tip of her tongue back up my neck and my hips bucked against her in response as all the remaining air left my lungs. This woman was dangerous; my very own Red Menace.

My hands flew up into her hair and tugged her almost too hard at me. She freed one of her own hands and pushed it out of sight between us. I didn't need to see where it was going. I could feel the pads of her fingers lightly grazing my inner thigh. I could hear my heartbeat and the blood pumping in my ears. I could hear snippets of her sultry voice from last night. I could hear – banging at the door.

"Emily! Ems, you in there? You awake?" came the distant male voice. _What the fuck!_

Emily's hand froze. She dropped on top of me and whined into my chest. "No Chris!" she called back. "I'm still asleep… what do you want?"

"Oh… sorry. Uhm… it's just: I've been called in to fill a shift at the radio station and Jal's taken my car. I was kinda hoping I could borrow your scooter…" He trailed off.

Emily returned both hands to either side of me and propped herself up to reply. "Fine! Whatever! The keys are in my bag in the lounge. Damage her and I'll have Jal castrate you though."

His voice grew quieter as we heard footsteps pace down the stairs. "Thanks Em, you're a star."

The star herself turned back to me and took in a resolute breath. She ran her thumb across my cheekbone, like she had done that first night I had actually _slept_ here. "Guess that's our cue too. We should get up and join the world out there. Got any plans?"

Suddenly I remembered. "Shit! Yes, I promised Thomas I'd have breakfast-" I turned and glanced at her alarm clock "well _brunch _with him and Panda back at our place." I hadn't planned on staying over. I guess that much was obvious to Emily by now. Just as it would probably be to Thomas as well, when I waltzed in the front door mid-morning. _Bollocks! Busted Campbell…_

I caught Emily's gaze and it brought me back to the present. Her soft eyes held a mix of gentle supplication and the remnants of diluted lust from our earlier activities. I reached out and smoothed a hand through her messy hair. "Where are my manners? Would you care to join us?" I added hastily. _This shit was getting serious. Here I was, inviting her into my space. Even the rare guys I brought home on the loneliest nights didn't get to stay for breakfast. Though, to be fair, that was probably equally their decision._

"I'd love to." She smiled, the most open smile I'd seen so far today. I wanted to see how many more of those I could get.

"Great! Well I suppose we should get ready then." I groaned. "Seeing as we're already late."

I reached for my phone and was relieved to find it where I'd left it in last night's fight to get undressed, still in the pocket of my jeans by the side of the bed. "I'll message Thomas while you shower. So we don't actually smell like sex when we show up."

She laughed "I have a better idea: we'll be quicker if we shower together. Plus we'll save water. That way everybody wins!"

_Cheeky! _"You just don't want to be the first to get up, don't you?" I teased, my fingers running across the screen, forming words, hitting send.

Meanwhile she was already doing her best to distract me from my texting by licking my earlobe where I knew her vicious bite mark would be surfacing and breathing hot air into my ear.

"Well, can you blame me? It's hard to get out of bed when there's a beautiful woman in it."

I dropped my phone onto her unused pillow and pushed her off me, rolling on top of her while I still had the upper hand. "Don't push it Fitch! You may have had many a woman in this bed before me. But I don't need the reminder." That last bit was true. I did feel rather inadequate in the face of her brazen confidence and experience. It's not like she paraded around with an air of 'been there, done that.' I knew she wasn't a cad. Only I couldn't help but wonder if I wasn't still one in a series of many. How many? I didn't want to dwell on that. I didn't want to be that girl. So I pecked her on the nose before gathering the sheet around me and standing up. "And that's also no reason to assume that kind of flattery will have the same effect on me." I ran my free hand through my hair, attempting to tame the 'freshly shagged' look I was sure was doing nothing for my appearance.

"Oi!... Ok, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that Naoms… Come back." She reached a flailing arm out from the bed. I started padding down her stairs. "Where are you going, then?"

I turned back and winked at her. "Shower." I shrugged. "I see no reason to punish the environment for your blunder… You coming?"

She caught up with me in a flash, grabbing a fresh towel from her dresser after she overtook me downstairs. She dragged me into the bathroom, threw the towel hurriedly over the rack and pushed me against the cold cream tiles of the shower. I discarded the sheet on the floor without much thought. She didn't even bother to take her pants off. One hand flicked the taps on while the other kept me pinned in place. I wasn't fighting.

She dipped her head under the stream of water and kissed me hot on the mouth. I tried to kick the sheet out of the way of the falling water. I tried to peel her pants off her so we could actually attempt some semblance at getting clean but she was too strong for me. She shoved me ever harder against the wall and lifted one of my legs around her waist for leverage.

"Forget it." she growled as she drove two fingers straight inside me. "No more fucking interruptions."

She increased her pace much faster than the night before. I was already well worked up from that nonsense in bed earlier anyway and her rougher play was enough to have me begging for her. She slammed roughly into me again and again under the jet until I wasn't sure if my blurred vision was the rising steam in the room or the beginnings of a mild concussion. It might as well have been a sex-induced hallucination. I closed my eyes and let her take me. The pressure she was building up in my cunt felt amazing. I was barely standing anymore. I don't think I could have if I'd wanted to. She was taking all my weight and holding me up against the wall like it was nothing. All her effort seemed to be focused on her hand pumping into me without mercy. I threw my head back and she devoured my neck. I couldn't take much more of this. I could feel my muscles clenching around her slender fingers and my useless leg wobbling beneath me. My breathing grew more ragged and frantic as there didn't seem to be enough oxygen contained in this sweltering room for the two of us.

I heard Emily's raspy voice over the cascading water and my own helpless whimpers. "Look at me… Naomi… Look at me."

I wrenched my eyes open to see hers, black as coals through the steam, boring into me. That was all it took. I went careening over the edge of my self control. I came without restraint. It was all I could do to keep my eyes open, as was her will. The rest of my body abandoned me. She continued to hold me as I fell limp into her arms. I felt her smile into my shoulder as she hugged me to her.

"Score two for two… yay me!" she whispered between breaths and squeezed me tighter.

When I collected myself enough to carry my own weight I stood back at arms' length and took her in. I tried to comprehend this creature. I doubted I ever would. But I wasn't going to stop trying. What she said got me thinking though. Would I be able to return the favour? I didn't have much faith in my abilities in that domain, with no experience to draw from. And if my pathetic failing to even unclasp her bra last night was anything to go by I was afraid I might be completely inadequate.

She noticed me drifting off into Naomi-land again. "Stop thinking Nai. That wasn't the point of this little exercise." She grinned and kissed me tenderly. "D'you know…" she said, leaning her forehead against mine, still panting a little "your eyes – well, what's left of them – They look even bluer when you come."

_Christ_, I had no answer for that. So I kissed her back. I tried to put what I couldn't do for her yet into that kiss along with a promise that I would kill myself trying, if she would only try to teach me. I ran my hands up her back to her strong shoulder-blades and traced my fingers absently over the muscles there, along the two lines of sinew where I knew the letters of her tattoo were scrawled. When she pulled away she reached for a shampoo bottle and handed it to me before stripping her pants off, finally.

"Now come on Blue Eyes, let's get clean. We're already late!" She slapped my bum and tossed her wet undies into a puddle in the corner of the room. The sexiest bum in the world pranced around me in the shower as we busied ourselves washing off the evidence of our exertions.

That was the filthiest I'd ever felt coming out of a shower.

I pushed my new favourite sleeping shirt and my jumper into my bag with a smile once I was comfortably dressed in my jeans and another Emily shirt. I helped her with a quick cleanup of the den and drove us back to my place in my beloved rust-bucket.

The apartment was barely bigger than her den but it was mine. I had bought it after finishing uni, when I'd gotten my first paid writing job and before the economy really went to shit. I had wanted to create a place in the world that I could really call mine. There seemed to be too much transience around me so I had hooked myself around something I felt I could hold onto, something I could control, and I had stubbornly pursued it. Gina had helped with the deposit; I wasn't happy about her overextending her already frugal finances but she hadn't taken 'no' for an answer. 'Like mother, like daughter.' Kieran had said when we'd had our stubborn-Campbell-standoff. Suffice it to say that was the first part I paid back. Now I was only indebted up to my eyeballs to the bloody bank.

Still it was my space and I had filled it with the things I loved. And that included Thomas. When the Council had knocked down the block of flats where he'd been squatting, I'd offered him the modest second bedroom. It's not like I was using it. Three months after he'd moved in, he burst in the door one evening, announcing that he'd found a job with a freelance landscape gardening group. From that day forth, he insisted on paying me rent towards the mortgage. It certainly helped.

Panda welcomed us at the door like the lady of the house. She had donned the brightly coloured apron I never wore and made good use of it, judging by the batter smears that already covered the front of it.

"It's so good to see you both! I'm glad you could come too Emily. Thommo is just finishing the cooking so we'll be eating soon. I've been helping!" I wasn't sure if she was more excited about new-friend-Emily joining us or the idea of impending breakfast food as she trapped Emily in a big bear hug.

I threw my bag at the bottom of the stairs and made my way towards the kitchen while Panda still held Emily captive. "Wow, that's some whizzer bruise you've got there Ems! How did you hit yourself there?"

I heard Emily's voice behind me, cursing my name and laughing. I loved that sound. I swaggered a little more as I disappeared around the kitchen nook. She called out to me. "I wouldn't be so smug if I were you, Blondiepants!"

My mind indulged in a little flashback of Emily's hot breath behind my ear, before I reached Thomas. _And biting, there had been biting…_ I was forced to grip a little tighter than necessary on the kitchen bench and count to ten before I greeted my friend. I could still hear Panda talking Emily's ear off in the next room. Normally I would have gone to her rescue but I was eager to talk to Thomas and, besides, she could handle herself.

"Hi Thomas. Sorry we're late."

He spun around from the cooker. "Naomi, so good to see you!" I got a flour hug. "It is ok; I got your message. Panda was happy to be able to sleep in a little bit."

He turned back to face the stove-top just long enough to flip one of his famous crêpes, slide one off the second frying pan and ladle more batter into it. I never tired of watching his well-tried culinary technique play out. Honestly, I think I would have let him stay for the food alone. I looked around the kitchen and I marveled at Panda's 'I've been helping' statement. It looked like she could only have hindered his cooking process; she must have helped 'decorate' the kitchen. The small room looked like the aftermath of a cataclysmic food fight. _Sleep in indeed!_

As I heard Panda drag Emily upstairs to give her the grand-tour, Thomas came back to face me.

"So, you stayed at Emily's house last night after your dinner?"

_Right, no escaping this one. _I swallowed hard. _Easier ripping off the second band-aid than the first, right? Or was I mixing my metaphors?_

"Yeah, actually Thommo, I have to be honest with you. I just hate that this has to be some kind of announcement. If I were… straight… I wouldn't have to make a declaration like this. Yes, I slept at Emily's last night. Well… I slept _with_ Emily last night…"

He placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "It's ok Naomi, Do not worry. But écoute, I'm sorry to tell you but I already knew. I am not blind and also, please do not hate her for this but Panda has been asking me if you two had made monkey yet. I think the others know as well. But it _isn't _a big deal, you know? You need to worry less, yes?"

I let a lopsided smile stretch across one side of my face. But what conclusion did that mean the others had drawn about me? 'Groping Groupie with benefits?' 'Bi now, gay later?' 'Wants to have her cock and eat her pussy too?' The horrid clichés flooded my mind. God only knew what disgusting and perverted assumptions or fantasies Cook's mind had conjured up for instance.

Thomas hugged me to him. "You care too much Naomi. You let other people matter. Sometimes I think that guy Cook, he doesn't care enough. But you care too much."

"Thanks Thommo." I sniffled a little at my friend's amazing ability to distill such wise observations into few words outside of his mother tongue. Then I noticed the pancakes were getting a tad crispy. I pulled back. "Thomas, the crêpes!"

He spun back to the cooker and remedied the situation in a flash, switching the heat off when he was done and picking up a full plate of crêpes in one hand and some clean plates in the other.

"Oh and by the way, Naomi… I have something to tell you also, but I do not want it to be a big deal because it doesn't need to be, Ok?"

I picked up the lemon and sugar and dithered a little while he continued: "I'm straight." He beamed a radiant white smile at me over his shoulder and I followed him to the table.

The girls joined us soon after and we sat down to a delicious and much needed feast. Panda had, to her credit, made some fresh orange juice with mint. After her tour, Emily was full of questions about the flat. We discussed the Solstice Festival; Thommo and Panda were keen. Our plan was in motion.

Thomas told us about his intentions to spend the afternoon at a plot up the street, finishing the planting he had started with some of his international colleagues. I'd met the boys before; when they weren't under the formal mantle of the landscaping company, they called themselves the Green Guerreros. They took it upon themselves to make use of the boss' spare seedlings, when he told them his back would be turned, to plant marvelous green creations into previously abandoned plots of land.

Today's guerilla gardening effort was a vegetable garden they had started a few weeks back and which was already starting to gain popularity around the community. Thommo had picked up a few different herbs from his boss Sean and had enlisted Panda's help on what promised to be a fine Autumn day to add these to the plot. Emily and I quickly threw our hats in the ring and the four of us were soon off down the road with potting mix, tools, plants and seeds in hand. A motley foursome we made too.

We toiled away in the afternoon sun and worked up an honest sweat. Emily dug neat holes in a row, I dropped in the young plants or seeds in and Panda watered the result while Thomas orchestrated the whole thing and tended to the veggies in the plot. I followed Emily between the mounds of upturned earth, grateful for the fresh air, exercise and distraction. In between rows though, she caught me sneaking not-so-surreptitious looks at her. They kept me going through the day. When she turned to fetch a bigger spade: the muscles of her back flexed, wonderfully defined under the perfectly selected shirt which clung to her in all the right places. They gave me 20 good minutes' worth of good pervy entertainment. Her adorable little bum as she bent down to pick up some seeds I had 'accidently' dropped beside her painstakingly dug hole; I got another 30 out of that. The pearls of sweat forming on her cleavage, which just happened to be on offer when she leaned down to dig the next hole: that kept me going for a whole hour. _I've never known outdoor activities to be so much fun._

The group of us messed around in the fading sunlight until the more seasonal cold started to seep out of the earth again. Panda tossed clumps of damp earth at her boyfriend when his instructions got too serious. Emily was not afraid of getting her hands dirty. Somewhere between the basil and the parsley I had tried to steal a kiss while Thommo had been showing Panda how to truss up the tomatoes correctly. The little red devil had smeared her muddy hand down my face and left a trail of silt and water from my temple to my chin. _Just watch me give not a fuck._

When Emily's phone went off late in the afternoon, she looked from her soil-riddled nails to me. Without a word, she canted her hips to the side and offered me her hip pocket. I fished the phone out of her pocket and looked at the screen.

"It says 'Message from K'…"

"That'll be Katie," she said "can you read it out?"

I pressed my finger to the screen and quickly read it in silence:

_Oi bitch! What's ur 411 for tonight?  
>Cook's organizing a party at mine.<br>He has supplies. 10pm yeah?  
>U can bring that favourite groupie of urs.<br>Love ya. K_

Only Katie would start a message with 'Bitch' and end it with love. But I was stuck on the last sentence.

"Party at hers tonight; she wants you there at 10." I summarized.

"Oh…" Emily bit her lip. That wasn't the response I had expected. Her voice too was trimmed with a hint of concern. "I've barely seen her this week; she's been in and out of appointments around work... Well, I guess we've got plans for tonight then." She pushed the shovel into the dirt and wiped her brow with the back of her arm. "Think Thomas would mind if we wrap up here? I'd like to clean up and grab a feed before I get messy again."

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><p><strong>I'm not sure why I couldn't get this chapter out under 5000 words. Thomas is an amazing amalgam to me, and there was a <em>bit<em> of non-Thomas content in there to lead in so, yeah... **

**Eh!**


	19. Katie

**Hello all and merry belated… whatever each of you celebrates. I realized after posting that I forgot to place a nudity warning on the previous chapter. Judging from your lovely reviews, I shall presume I'm already forgiven. This one was **_**going**_** to come with a warning as well but, due to extenuating circumstances and further pondering of the plot, I have decided to split this chapter in two so this one is safe to read in front of family (for those of you who spent the festive season with them like I did).**

**I myself have been eagerly anxious to get to this chapter because we get to deal with the delightful Miss Katie Fitch. I hope I do the legend justice. Comments and constructive critiques are welcome as there is more to come.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Skins characters, well except for… wait, no… none of them.**

**I hope you all enjoy.**

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><p>This level of exhaustion should be criminal. After such a long and eventful week of work I would normally want nothing more than to retire to the comfort of my little home and curl up to read the weekend away. Add to the mix last night's... activities, this morning's cardio-challenging shower, my self-inflicted and ever so slightly stalkerish lack of sleep and a full afternoon's gardening efforts and I was indeed a very tired girl.<p>

On top of this, my already typical active mind had now ticked into overdrive. I've always justified my overanalysing of situations as my way of anticipating negative outcomes and preparing for the worst. Forewarned is forearmed right? So how could I prepare myself for the demons that my paranoia had summoned at Katie's mention of me as a vulgar 'groupie' or even for the myriad of possible meanings of the underlying anxiety in Emily's voice at the invitation?

As I came down from my earlier elated mood and the rush of novelty wore off, I started to feel the uneasiness creep back into my bones. So the Campbell genes had left me well alone for the morning, but now it was all catching up with me. It was like I was coming down of the high of Emily. As if exposure to her had rushed through my system like a drug and shut down my usual defences and inhibitions. But, like any high, the downer can be a rude awakening. I became progressively more aware of my body's aches and pains as I retreated into my head. The food had settled in my stomach and along with it came the usual drowsiness. My muscles started to strain and tire and stiffen. My own irritable and cynical self was sneaking back into the driver's seat as I got steadily more weary.

Though in true pig-headed Naomi style, I bottled it up for later. _Much more fun to have a good old row about things later than talk it out now. _But seriously, now wasn't the moment anyway. I could see that Emily had things on her mind too. Now was too early for _that_ conversation.

I was going to need a pick me up if I was going to survive this party. If I had any chance of lasting the night and beat the criminal fatigue bearing down on me, I would have to resort to less than legal ways of keeping me awake. No doubt Cook's 'supplies' were not likely to be licit; he may just turn out to be a good friend to keep around. But for now, a hot shower and a strong coffee would have to do.

Emily told Thomas and Panda about the evening's plans and invited them along while I gathered the tools and equipment. As we walked back to the apartment, she received another text from Katie with more details. We now had a theme and a dress code. _Thanks a fucking lot, Katie!_ Emily passed on her sister's belated instructions and asked Panda for a lift back to hers to get ready. How in the name of fuck was I going to pull together a bloody 'dark cabaret/burlesque' costume in – I checked my watch – three hours? Panda however was tickle-pink about the imposed 'Threepenny Opera' theme, perhaps something was lost in translation or then again perhaps Thommo's girlfriend had more grit than I had given her credit for.

While our two girls teetered around the corner and out of sight in Panda's van, Thomas placed a hand on my forearm. "Relax Naomi, you are doing that thing again..." he turned and stepped inside. I snapped out of it, for now. I had a costume to put together. I rummaged through my wardrobe and found something that would do the trick, barely, if I accessorised this right. While Thomas made dinner downstairs, I jumped in the shower and let the hot water soothe over the budding knots in my muscles. I relished in the physicality of the moment and tried not to think. With that done, I slipped into my clothes and surveyed the sight in my full height mirror. My eyes were sunken a little with lack of sleep but then I supposed that fit the theme. I had opted for a pair of dark grey trousers and a tight white v-neck tshirt, which I tucked in so I could clip suspenders onto the waistband of the slacks. I adjusted the straps over my shoulders and looked back up at my reflection. Something was missing. I clicked my fingers to myself when the idea hit me.

"Thomas!" I called out from my bedroom.

I heard a faint "Ouais?" from the kitchen, so I continued.

"If you're not planning on wearing it, d'you think I could borrow that hat or yours?"

"Ok, d'accord." Came his reply.

I stepped into his room and found the felt fedora he'd bought with me off some old guy at the flea market, resting as always on top of his dresser. I pushed the hat down onto my still wet hair and tucked the short bangs behind each of my ears. _Much better. _I thought to myself. It struck the right balance of 'in theme' yet without pandering to Katie's late instructions with too much effort. Understated as it should be but I now felt like I could face the night with my new character. Feeling satisfied with that and a little better for it, I padded downstairs and joined Thomas for a quick supper.

It didn't take us long to scarf down our meal with a few shots of caffeine and finish getting ready. Thomas showered and threw on a white shirt and loose cravat that brought out the contrast of his skin and teeth even more than usual. He looked fucking gorgeous; Panda would flip. I tucked my pack of fags into the sleeve of my tshirt and laced up my boots. _Unto the breech I go._ I was ready to get shitfaced enough to return to my state of not giving a crap. On the drive back to Sans-Souci we both kept our eyes on the road. We barely spoke a word between us until I pulled up on the front verge of the house. I hesitated just a moment before unbuckling my seatbelt and my hand froze on the door handle.

Thommo sensed I needed a shot in the arm. Without a lead-in he spoke as if to himself. "Séduire c'est facile, c'est construire qui est dur."

If my high-school French and three years of cohabitation served me well, I didn't need the English version. I swallowed hard, pushed on the door and hopped onto the kerb.

This time, Emily was ready when she opened the door. Although 'ready' may have been a bit of an overstatement. My eyes trailed up her scarcely covered legs and over the rags that must have once been a green skirt and a grey cardigan over a slinky white tank top. The original length of the skirt could was only evidenced from the longest edge of the tapered rip she had torn across the bottom of it, right across her thighs. Her hair was out and messy under a Gavroche cap and reminded me dangerously of the sight I had been greeted with that very morning. I bit my lip, trying not to let the flashback play all over my face.

Emily pushed her lips together and flashed me a shy corner smile as she gave herself a once-over and pulled the door closed behind her. She held out her closed hand to me and dropped a small flip wallet, keys, chapstick and phone into my palm.

"Can I get you to hold onto these for me tonight?" She asked, motioning to her outfit "No pockets."

I nodded and pocketed the objects "I see that, yeah. What's the... story here?" I tried to smile.

"Filch, _Emily _Filch. As in the beggar? From Threepenny Opera." she explained. "I took liberties with the gender, of course."

"Of course." I repeated dumbly. _But then, when_ don't_ you do that?_ I thought to myself.

As we walked back to the car, Emily pushed her left hand into my pocket where mine had stayed with her belongings. Despite the tight squeeze in there, she managed to thread her fingers through mine and clutch my hand around the chapstick. I felt her thumb graze lightly over the back of my hand and eased a little in her grip. I was still a long way from fucking relaxed though. I knew it wasn't her fault though. _Harden the fuck up Campbell; she hasn't shown you any reason to feel like a goddamn groupie._ She didn't deserve the frigid-bitch treatment.I decided not to punish her for a petty crime I wasn't even sure she'd committed, so I squeezed back.

She seemed relieved at that and smiled at me as Thomas opened his door and climbed out motioning for her to take his seat up front. My genial friend was determined not to let the tension and fatigue dampen his spirits so he greeted her warmly in French.

"Bonsoir Emily, so nice to see you again. You look very lovely."

She returned his smile with a nod of thanks and hopped up into the front seat. I rounded the car and pulled us out onto the road and on our way. The rest of the drive onwards to Panda's was silent again until Thomas' bundle of energy bounced into the car and monopolised the 'conversation' with questions to Emily about what her sister had in store for the evening. Emily returned Panda a series of shrugs and wide-eyed stares for help in my direction.

When we arrived at Katie's place in Easton, the dull thud of the bass could already be heard from the street. The walls of the adjoining buildings along the street-front almost throbbed with the deep resonating beat as it coursed up through our feet. Emily led us up three flights of stairs to the top landing where we found the door open and a small crowd already gathered inside the loft. The place was not huge but clearly still worth a bundle for this part of town. Moreover, the apartment looked like it had recently been done up with all the fixings, unlike the decrepit facade of the building it was in. To add to this opulence, Katie had obviously sourced only the finest in furnishings for her space and filled the place with timber edged velvet chaise-longues, ornate low tables and wrought iron lamps in the most lavish of tastes. I was certainly stylish; not my style but undeniably stylish.

We filed into the main room and saw JJ in the kitchen corner at the steel-top island bench. He waved us over enthusiastically through the overwhelming thud of the music. The boy looked slightly dwarfed by a thick mid-length tweed jacket and brown trousers that must have been as old as Sans-Souci.

"The main party is upstairs." He grinned at us. "I'm just getting a bottle opener for Katie because she says she'll scream if she sees Cook open another one with his teeth."

And with that he was off through a freshly arrived group of partygoers and up a tight spiral staircase, with us in tow. We emerged at the top into a small antechamber, barely wider than the stairwell. JJ pushed his full body weight into a heavy door, revealing behind it the _real _party indeed. Katie had really gone all out. The rooftop was already the scene of rather evident debauchery, guests imbibing every single colour from oversized bulbous glasses. Golden lanterns were strung around the scene, leaving the revelers barely silhouetted. A few spots cast stronger selective light on three simple podiums where contortionists in scanty rags twisted and coiled on themselves. Smoke from the embers of what seemed like more cigarettes than guests spilled out of mouths and curled around the smokers in the late dusk. The backlit smoke rising in scarlet billows caught the light of the lanterns and bathed the whole party in a hazy ambient light.

Up in the far corner I could see Chris behind a set of turntables and large speakers, spewing deliriously filthy drum and bass remixes of Bristol Sound. JJ led us to a long table draped in emerald green where we found Katie and Cook. Katie was busy sculpting neat little rows of white across a fashion mag with the patience and attention of a miniature gardener raking sand. It really was all about presentation with this girl. She was dressed like nobody else I'd seen outside of a runway show. Still I had to admit, her dress was gorgeous and presumably her own creation. It consisted of a narrow hoop skirt partially stripped to show only portions of the cover material and the rest of the frame exposed. It looked rather gothic and beautifully skeletal. The top of the fitted bodice was held in place with two lanyards across one shoulder, the stitching intentionally coarse and contrasting in colour. Her burgundy hair draped across the rich green fabric on the table as she folded forward and did the first line. She offered the rolled note to Cook.

"Mack?" she beckoned him as she handed the banknote across.

He took two lines in quick succession and stood back, sporting his proudest Cheshire grin. "Thank you Polly!" Cook, I decided, true to form was ever the attention seeker. He was clearly all about the spectacle and not above one-upping his girlfriend and host to achieve this.

JJ handed Cook the bottle opener. No sooner had the object exchanged hands that the quieter of the two boys seemed to stop dead in his tracks. I looked across to where his eye-line led and found a very mousey looking Lara in equally ill-fitting pantomime garb standing by the DJ setup. JJ's facial expression had changed in an instant. He started to push through the crowd.

"Thanks JJ!" I called after him as he weaved between dancing bodies.

He turned deftly on his heels and spun into an elaborate bow "Jonathan Jeremiah Peachum, at your service ma'm." A wink and he was gone.

I returned my gaze to Cook, who was now playfully shoving Emily towards the table. The younger redhead darted a furtive look in my direction.

"Got anything else Mackie?" she smiled at Cook.

Cook adjusted his paint spattered white coveralls around his waist and reached for a bowl on the table. He handed it to Emily and grinned. "Here, have some candy luv."

Emily and I glanced at the white pills that filled the bowl. We grabbed one each and downed them eagerly. _Here's to tonight improving. _I thought as I swallowed hard.

Cook brushed the flat of his palms over his singlet. "Not the kind of candy you'll find in the confectionary aisle at your local Asdawl!" he beamed. "What about you Pandapops? What can I get ya?"

Panda smiled and shook her head cheerfully. "No thanks Cook, Thomas says I'm happy enough as it is. I like your eye makeup though." She reached for her boyfriend's hand and dragged him off into the moving crowd for a dance.

Emily scanned the rooftop slowly, her gaze eventually landed on Katie. "Nice setup K. Bit grandiose though, don't you think? Are you sure 'Katie Fitch Fashion' can afford all this?" she waved her hand vaguely over the scene.

Katie scowled a little "Never you fucking mind Ems. _Something_ good has got to come of KFF this year. Besides, good reasons to save are fucking dwindling." She shrugged and her scowl was replaced by a smile which even I could tell was rehearsed.

Emily blinked a few times before deciding to push the matter regardless of the audience.

"Wait... Katie you're not telling me something. I've barely seen you this last week. If something's going on I want to-"

"Ems, really: just drop it ok! I'm fine... And anyway, you've spent the better part of this week with your new... plaything." Her eyes flickered across to me then back to her sister "Which is fine; I can tell you really like her. So go and cozy on up to her on the dancefloor. That's what it's there for."

With that last comment she shoved Cook in the chest with both hands. He stumbled backwards into the mass of dancers and she followed, quickly wrapping herself around him in ways I didn't think a dress like hers would allow. Emily stood there looking flummoxed and vaguely hurt. I didn't even know where to start. _Plaything? But Katie had also said that Emily really liked me... _though more importantly _What in the fuck was up with Katie? _

I collected Emily's hand and pulled her in the direction of the DJ podium. She didn't resist. My little pocket rocket had been reduced back to the tiny quiet waif I first thought I had met. We weaved through the escalating cornucopia of hedonism and stopped next to Chris. It was a little quieter behind the main speakers. Chris nodded us through and doffed his policeman's cap. It seemed that was the only accessory he had added to his usual fluorescent attire tonight.

"Heya Naomi, E Minor, looking fine tonight ladies." He smiled and cued up the next song.

I pulled my pack of fags out of my sleeve and handed one to Emily. No front tonight, she took it without arguing. I lit the tip and she took one long drag with her eyes closed. When she opened them her pupils were already swelling in her brown pools. We perched on the ledge and shared the smoke in silence. When all that was left was the filter, I stubbed the still glowing butt against the parapet wall and flicked it away. I looked down between us, Emily hadn't let go of my hand. She curled her fingers between mine and I felt my knuckles send a pulse up my arm and to my chest. _That'll be the drugs kicking in._

Emily was the first to break the silence. "Do you want to talk now or later?" she asked.

I met her eyes again; I didn't have the stomach for it. "Talk later, dance now." I tugged once more on her arm and led us to the dance floor.

Another track was mashed in to the previous faster one, it was a dubstep remix of Nancy Sinatra's _Bang Bang_. The effect of the drugs felt immediately enhanced. Emily curled around me and the rush increased tenfold. My mind, used to functioning at a million miles per hour, slowed right down to match the rhythm of the wet bass beat. I furrowed my brow and Emily reached up to trace my forehead. Her fingers skidded over the patina of sweat that was already forming in the cold heat of the rooftop madness. It somehow seemed to soothe away the remaining thoughts fighting each-other behind the skin and bone. For the second time in twenty-four hours, I forgot to dwell on things that I normally would find important. My focus now was solely on the woman in front of me and getting monumentally fucked up, messed up enough to somehow let her in.

The song slowed down again as the voice blended back in. As my field of vision blurred, the crowd faded to gray in the background but Emily's skin seemed to radiate technicolour light in the brilliant darkness. She pushed her hips into mine and I think I went a little mad. My hands had been grazing her lower back and pulling her into me but I don't think I was ready for the result of that action. Without my brain telling them to do so, they seized her ass and ruffled her skirt as I sunk my teeth into her neck. She pressed her leg between mine and my heart sped ahead of the beat. I hummed up the length of her bare neck. She tugged a little tighter on the firm grip she had on my suspenders, bringing me to hunch over till my face was just level with hers. At this distance my peripheral vision blurred everything but her lips and her eyes. She closed her eyes and all I had left to anchor me were her lips. So I kissed her. I kissed her to stay upright, to stay sane. I kissed her because I wasn't ready to talk; but she knew I would be. In time.

The song sped up again and the bass underscoring the voice morphed seamlessly, Chris was blending in another song. His talents were wasted at a radio station. When Emily's mouth broke contact with mine I saw it continue to move. At first I craned my neck towards her, wanting to restore the connection. But soon after I heard words, seemingly disconnected from the source and delayed by the elation of both the drugs and the kiss.

_Do you... a drink... maybe?_

"Do I fuck!" I managed.

We made our way back to the table and picked up two glasses filled with something bright red. _Bottoms up._ I necked the drink so fast I barely got the hint of grapefruit and something else, way too sweet, burning on the way down. _Perfect!_

Just then, Lara sauntered into view looking a little flushed. Her calico print dress cinched at the waist with a wide modern belt might have looked frumpy on others but she looked adorable as ever, and still not a day older than 20. She picked up two empty cups and a pitcher. Pouring some water and dropping a few ice cubes into the cups, she smiled at us and explained.

"JJ's worried about the second hand smoke and marijuana. He says we're getting dehydrated."

I chuckled at the thought which in turn sent Emily into a fit of giggles. The idea was not that hard to entertain. Emily had told me about her friend's propensity to get 'locked on' about seemingly insignificant things and escalate into paranoia. In that regard he wasn't that different from me. Although I would never agree with mum out loud about that fact. Emily and I descended into wasted, euphoric laughter as Lara disappeared again.

My laughter dissipated as I spotted Eff leaning against the door to the stairwell with her usual air of ennui. She was taking it all in, soaking in the scene as was her habit before calculating how to play the night. Not unlike her usual outfit, her dress consisted of little more than a long black t-shirt, ripped in a few places and fishnet stockings. Her hair was out and mussed up, strands falling into her dark rimmed eyes as if by accident. It was no accident. The only difference in her attire tonight was that instead of her trademark boots she was wearing heels. I gawked as this somehow managed to make her long slender legs even more breathtaking. I mentally checked myself for lingering a little too long on my long-time friend. _Hanging out with Emily too much...?_ I always knew Effy was objectively gorgeous, that was an irrefutable fact, but never dragged my eyes up her body like this. _I chose to blame the MDMA. _Regardless, she looked hot, sexually confident and hot. Our very own little Low-Dive Jenny.

A little further along I noticed Freddie, in many ways her ideal foil. Also removed and observing, only through a lens. He was already slinking around the periphery of the party, taking snaps. Eventually, through my lightheaded haze, I noticed Emily too had stopped laughing. Only her gaze was fixed on something altogether more unusual.

A sound louder than the regular hum of the crowd could be heard coming from the middle of the dancefloor. Soon enough the swearing grew louder than even the music and I was able to recognise the voice. It was Katie; and she was at it like a fucking trouper. Emily dove into the throng of people with me hot on her heels. As the onlookers parted I saw the older Fitch twin squaring up to a young man twice her size and looking like she was about to swing at him. Profanities continued to spill out of her mouth. Cook was nowhere to be seen, probably passed out in a corner somewhere as seemed to be his habit: _party hard early, pass out next, finish with face in Katie's tits. _Harmless but also ultimately unhelpful. Although right now it didn't seem like Katie needed any help tearing shreds of this guy. Just as her obscenities turned to the rather colourful description of the size of the young man's genitalia, she wound her fist back and Thomas leapt out of the front line just in time to grab her arm. Sid was quick to appear and secure her other arm, holding her flailing about but at a safe distance from the object of her scorn. Strike that: with Katie Fitch, at arms' length is _not _a safe distance.

"Eat shit and fucking die Danny!" she screamed and her foot flew out before anyone could stop it.

Maybe it was the drugs, but the echo of Katie's swearing tirade was a rather awesome and tremendous sound. The next thing any of us knew, the presumed 'Danny' was limping backwards and cradling his crotch in both hands. He collected three cronies on his way to the door, two of them wearing home-colours football jerseys, and beat his retreat without a word. Emily rushed to her sister's side as the boys let go. Katie dropped into Emily's arms but didn't cry until Chris cued up another song to replace the stunned silence. While the surrounding crowd began to move again, no longer watching the twins, Katie collapsed into sobs.

"What in the fuck is wrong, Katie?" croaked Emily, somehow borrowing my earlier thoughts "Why won't you tell me this time?"

"Not now Ems" Katie managed in a breath. "You wouldn't understand."

Effy stepped in at that moment and magically replaced Emily's body with her own without ruffling Katie. She cast Emily and me a look that said: _I've got this. _And as Effy walked the older twin away in silence, Katie let her.

Em looked broken when she turned back to me and I didn't blame her. I had no idea what would be so upsetting as to make the almighty Katie Fitch cry; much less something that she felt she couldn't share with the twin who'd told me not 48hrs ago that they shared everything. I could tell Emily was both hurt and confused so I did the only thing I could. I reassured her that her sister was in good hands. Because I knew she was. Effy was good in a crisis; as long as it wasn't her own. She was great at picking up the pieces after a breakdown. Maybe that was precisely because she was so used to it. She knew from her own experience where they were likely to fall.

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><p><strong>There y'go folks. My sincere apologies to all for the time it took to spit out this chapter. I blame the festive season, duties and obligations as well as periods without internet access. But I do promise to do my best to return to my regular updates in the New Year. That can be my resolution. Not that I ever really believed in those things, but I'll try.<strong>


	20. Molly, Margarita & MaryJane

**So the previous cliffhanger-esque (Lord, I dislike that word) chapter showed us some KFF fire but not much insight or resolution yet. Fear not, all in good time. Though for now I am determined to maintain my self-imposed 'one chapter per character' rule hence this one's title. Again, as with Banksy, I feel these three have always been significant players in the Bristol/Skins 'verse and characters' canon. ;-)**

**With this in mind as well as the drug-fueled… shall we say 'catharsis' that will ensue… I am putting a rather strong warning on this chapter. Read it away from prying eyes, else do not blame me if those eyes turn judgmental.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Skins, I don't own this laptop, I don't even own this external hard-drive, but I own my experiences and vicarious thrills and the words to describe them.**

* * *

><p>"This stuff is... fucking... 's strong." I mumbled, trying rather in vain to work my tongue around the syllables.<p>

Emily cast me a lopsided smile. "That's Cook's party favours for ya. You get used to them though."

We had migrated back to the long table and seized a couple of salt-rimmed cocktails. Emily ran her lips absentmindedly along the edge of her glass and looked out across the dance-floor with a glazed stare in the direction Effy had led Katie. Thomas, Sid and the rest of the boys, in dire need of a drink too, were by our side in a flash. The lot of us propped up the bar in mutually agreed silence for a while until I felt Em's hand on the small of my back. I nodded to the boys as she ushered me away.

We walked past the stairwell door, across the adjoining building's roof and then the next. Once the music was only a distant throb, she sat us down behind an old condensing unit vent. I looked out over the field of satellite dishes and television antennas. Disused chimneys of all shapes and sizes protruded up into the night, not half as dark as it should be now the light pollution from the city turned the sky a flat, murky grey. It was rooftops for miles.

I tried to make sense of my drug-addled thoughts, put them in some sort of constructive order. It was no use. _I was no use._ Suddenly I felt about as helpful as bloody passed-out Cook. I was plumb out of reassuring platitudes and besides, even well on my way to wankered as I was, I could tell those were not going to do either of us much good. All I knew was that we both needed to open up. But right now I was too drug-fucked to make sense of my own fears and I told myself that Emily's issue should take precedence over my neurosis anyway. Still I didn't want to push a discussion she wasn't ready to have. She'd had the good grace to do that for me.

So I did what I could manage. I placed my hand hesitantly just above her knee. She flinched at the touch at first but soon rested her head against my shoulder. She didn't speak. Bolstered by her acceptance of contact as the only support I seemed to able to offer, I snaked my arm around her ribs. She looked up at me and shuffled between my legs, leaning back against my chest. Still not talking. The night was wearing on and a chill was dropping over the concrete landscape. A cold breeze blew through her loose hair, tickling my neck as she snuggled into my body for warmth. She pulled my arms around her waist without a word.

I could feel her heart rate, faster than my own as a slight shiver shook her small body. There was no telling if it was the drugs, the cold or the recent events. Even so, the shiver made its way through my own body a moment later and she nestled tighter into me. My own heart rate suddenly matched hers. I felt her twist around in my arms and lock eyes with me. I saw my own inebriation reflected in her enlarged pupils.

"Smoke?" she blinked. Her eyes were moist.

I reached for my fags and lighter but she caught my hand and shook her head. "In my wallet."

Her hand came to rest on my hip pocket and I remembered the collection of things I was minding for her.

I pulled out the wallet and gave it to her. She flipped it open and produced a skinny joint that had been neatly tucked into the spine of it. Placing the pinched tip between her lips, she leaned back and let me light it. Her chest swelled against my ribs as she inhaled and it seemed to artificially steady her breathing for now. Then eventually, after a long breath out, she handed me the spliff and the words finally spilled out, unbidden but needed.

"What the _hell_ Katie?" she threw out first, to nobody in particular.

"I mean, I shouldn't really be surprised: she's the queen of the distraction party."

We passed the thing back and forth as she continued.

"Back in college" she said "Katie got it in her head that her boyfriend was going to dump her. She organised this... this fucking elaborate camping expedition. This place... Gobblers Bend- End, something like that."

The next breath she drew in was ragged but she remained facing away from me, speaking to the night air around us.

"Woods in the middle of fucking nowhere. Bloody worst time in my life; weather was shit, company was even worse. Guess she was in denial about it or something... or she was trying to put off the inevit- I dunno... " she trailed off.

I plucked the joint back from her hands and drew a toke from it, squeezing my knees around her instinctively. She craned her neck around and looked at me.

"She's always been like this. Now she's got more money the parties are more extravagant but she's still the same Katie. She splashes out rather than _lashes_ out- well sometimes she lashes out as well. I mean, you saw... That's why I freaked a little when I got her message." She rambled on.

"But this... It's the first time she won't tell me what the fuck is going on."

"Yeah, you said you told each other everything" I supplied unhelpfully.

"Almost, yeah... Danny's her ex. He's a slimy cunt and she's well shot of him." She shook her head. "But he's crashed her parties before... I don't..."

Her next words deteriorated into a garbled mess, somewhat like my thoughts.

"Hey, hey..." I crushed out the spliff and flicked it away. Feeling her suppress another shiver, I wrapped myself tighter around her.

"There's more to it this time... I know." She said. It was barely a whisper, like a thought that her stoned lips had somehow materialised without her say so.

"Ems, it's ok. I'm sure she'll tell you... I think she just needs time." She shivered again more violently. "And you need to go inside; you're frozen."

I stood up and wobbled a little, making sure I had regained full balance before attempting to help Emily up. Once we were back in the mess of the party itself, the whole thing seemed to have lost its sheen.

The glamorous hostess was no longer there to breathe life into the event and it was down to the dregs anyway. Chris had stepped away from the turntables and was just letting some presets spin. Two of the contortionists were sat on the edge of one of their plinths, drunkenly making out, seemingly unaware of the small crowd of stragglers who might have left a while back were it not for this new spectacle they provided. I swallowed once and forced my eyes around the rest of the scene. The third was perched on top of the service table in full lotus position, smoking a fag. Glamour gone. It was a different party to the one we'd left. Earlier the excess was such that it simply couldn't have been contained under a roof. Now the revelry had burnt itself out and the embers were dying around us.

The crowd was oozing life, numbers had dwindled and only a few couples still populated the dance floor. Most of them were propping each other up in some unfeasible mutual balancing act, only made possible because of their continued swaying motions. I surveyed the rooftop for familiar faces, spotting Sid being walked towards the stairs by a _barely_ more sober Tony. Sid belched loudly, to which Tony slurred "Bless you" and the two melted into guffaws which echoed out from the stairwell as they disappeared.

We ambled up to Chris who explained that Panda and Thomas, or the little funny one and her buff colonial boy as he put it, had been taken home by JJ and Lara. Freddie was around... "somewhere" and did we know where the boy was actually because he was Chris' lift back to Sans-Souci after he wrapped things up for Katie. The others had gone every which way and Cook, Eff and Katie had gone back inside a while back.

On our way down into the flat I scooped up a glass of... god only knows what, to soothe the driest mouth I'd had in months. I necked the drink in one and grinned foolishly at Emily as she led us back into the flat. The vertigo that hit me on our way down the stairwell was enough to remind me of the state I was in. I was not going to be driving anywhere tonight.

We almost tripped over a pair of legs poking over the end of the trendy davenport at the base of the steps. Unperturbed though, Cook slept on; snoring louder for a second after the disruption and then rolling over. There was a note on the kitchen counter in Effy's scrawl.

_I have taken Katie to bed.  
>Emily, she's ok.<br>She said something about the studio, and to do as usual.  
>E<em>

The very stoned redhead by my side finally let a smile grace her features and her full beauty was restored. As another small rush of elation from the drugs surged over me, I leaned forward and pressed my lips to hers. My head spun slightly, announcing the beginning of my come-down. _Thank fuck for Emily having that joint to cushion the landing._ I felt the cotton wads of attempted brain activity float around unsuccessfully between my ears as she responded to the kiss. Basic brain function was now reduced to two primary drives: Naomi horny and then Naomi sleep...

I pulled back from the kiss before it got too heated and mumbled "So Fitch... This studio thingy? Can a girl get in on that conveni-... handsy- erm... handy sleeping arrangement?"

Emily let out a delightful giggle right near my ear, sending a tingle right down my spine. I tried to cover my flustered reaction by turning the accusation casually on her. I _may _have overshot the mark.

"Shhhhhh... Quiet drunkface! You'll wake up the kids." I hissed, kicking off my shoes.

The faint sounds of descending footsteps got louder. Realising she would probably be unable to make me shut up, Em marshalled me into a nearby room and sat me in a high swivel chair. She started fussing about in a cupboard and I spun around vaguely, looking about the room.

The scraps of surroundings I took in included a tall drawing board with clippings and tracings taped all around its edges. Beyond it a full wall of cork pinup board, plastered with more cuttings and fans of fabric swatches. Against that a large table with a computer on screensaver. I idly watched the curly KFF logo bounce around the four walls of the screen for a couple of minutes like a hypnotized bunny before resuming my visual tour. The same table was also piled high with rolls of textiles and a large sewing machine and scattered with magazines. Katie's and my concepts of relevant research reading obviously differed greatly. In the corner of the room there was a mannequin torso, mounted on what looked like the bottom half of a hatstand. It had been voodooed several times over with pins through different coloured squares of material. I winced in incoherent empathy.

I returned my gaze to Emily who had gathered sheets and a duvet and was wrestling a fitted sheet onto the last piece of furniture in the room. A rather lush timber daybed was pushed against the opposite wall. Wider than a single but not quite the size of a double, _this must be Emily's standard crashing spot at her sister's_. She lost her balance a moment later and dropped to her elbows on the mattress.

"Fucking Katie and fucking pillows fucking everywhere..." she slurred, but when she lifted her face I saw she was laughing quietly.

I stumbled over and pushed the remaining fluffy fuckers off the bed with a victorious grin. We barely managed to pull the quilt over us as we collapsed in fits of laughter. Emily wriggled and squirmed under me as my hands found ticklish spots that could ensure she would continue to laugh. I didn't want the sound to stop, ever. I closed my eyes and watched pictures of the soundwaves stretch across the back of my eyelids. Coloured spikes and swirls punctuated her shrieks; the brighter ones sending pulses into my belly and below. _I imagine this is what the great creative geniuses see when they hear music. _Only her voice brought me out of my synaesthesia.

"Stop, Naoms stop." She hooked her hand behind my neck and I stilled all motion.

Our faces were inches apart but in the darkness I couldn't make out her pupils from her irises. The heady cocktail of lust and drugs was not helping my focus, but it did wonders for my confidence.

"You're staring." she whispered.

"I know." I didn't stop.

Then with my heart still hammering in my chest and my ears, my throat as dry as anything, I dropped my face to meet hers. I kissed her; it was a reflex. I touched her; it was a knee-jerk reaction. I bit her lip; it was instinct. We snogged shamelessly for minutes and as the kiss grew more and more filthy, my throat and my cunt got decidedly less dry.

My arms somehow managed to hold my weight hovering above her small form. I dipped and dived, each time ergonomically molding myself to her contours. I reveled in the warmth radiating from her soft stomach. Memorized the hills and valleys of her back as she arched up towards me. I traced the ridges of her shoulders. All the while she was the passive one for once. She let me learn her shape while it seemed I still dared to do so.

Soon though I had to remind myself to breathe so, regrettably, I had to relent in my wasted possession of her for a moment. She seized her chance in that moment of respite to get through to me. The smoke and lust had affected her voice so that her usual husk was even deeper and raspier in her attempt to keep her voice quiet. The sound shook me to my core and made her words even more adorable.

"I don't want to take advantage of you while we're wasted." She hesitated. "I'm not a complete repra- reprobate you know."

A spike of adrenaline bolted through me and I just knew. "Good, then I can take advantage of you…"

She tilted her head, she looked unsure. I wasn't.

"I want to Ems. I want you." I blew the words into her ear.

Her eyes snapped shut. "Then take me... Please!"

And that was all it took. Meek doctor Jekyll was under the influence, so she handed Ms Hyde the keys. I tore at her clothing with little regard for the ripping sounds I heard as I pulled at the already frayed materials in my frantic desire to undress her. I turned slightly feral in my heightened impatience. Her top hit the floor, then her skirt. I flung her bra over my shoulder and pressed my mouth to her tits like I was starved. I fucking was. A ballad of sexual dependency was on a loop in my head. I didn't just want her anymore; I needed her. I think I might have ceased to exist if I didn't connect with her.

Busying my tongue on her already hard nipples, my hands crept instinctively down her abdomen. They weren't following instructions, the nerve endings just sought out her own. When I reached the waistband of her pants I ran a tentative finger along the inside of the elastic. The muscles of her stomach flinched involuntarily. I had never seen anything quite like it, so I did it again. The same thing happened.

I became obsessed with her body's every response to my touch and the more her muscles contracted and her skin rippled, the more it spurred me on further. I pulled her briefs down her legs and traced a path down one leg with my tongue, following the garment as I peeled it off. Right away I was hit with the distinct aroma of her arousal and almost balked at the realness of it._  
>We're not in fucking Kansas anymore!<em>

"Naomi? Are you ok?" I heard coming from somewhere above me.

I didn't trust my voice not to belie my remaining fears of inadequacy so I simply nodded and bit the bullet, so to speak. I dipped my head forward and put my lips to her clit, placing a chaste kiss around it. Her reaction was instantaneous, breathing in sharply and arching her back off the mattress.

"Jesus" she gasped. I took that as a good sign. Again I was egged on by the responses I was getting and I knew I was beyond turning back.

I shuffled back up to face her and found her eyes opening to look at me when I got there. Her lips were still slightly parted in shock so I snuck my tongue into her mouth and kissed her until my body figured out what to do next. Before I knew it my braces were pushed roughly off my shoulders and my t-shirt was tugged over my head. My hand still hovered just over her pussy, playing idly with the soft hairs there. The next thing I felt was her hand on mine as she gently guided me to her clit again. The moment my fingers made contact she let out another whimper but her eyes stayed trained on mine.

My hand slowly started timid flicking motions. Pop culture told me to do what I liked doing to myself, instinct told me to do what she had done to me. Progressively my movements became more daring and I teased her hardening clit with two fingers. As I got more and more worked up from my actions and she bucked into me, causing our bare stomachs to touch, I truly entered the moment. The look of frenetic concentration eased off my face and was replaced by a mirror of her carefree blissful winces.

She bit her lip repeatedly in between moans that sounded deliciously like my name. And I found myself humming with her, matching her breath for breath. In the obscurity and growing warmth, my trance of synaesthesia returned tenfold. Wet sparks flew between us when I curled my wrist at her opening, parting her sodden lips.

I pushed two fingers straight in and she cried out. "Fuck!"

"Oh god!" I echoed.

Acid tinted implosions set off around me. The daybed shook and buckled to the rhythm my arm had to follow. There was no resistance to the slick warmth I found once I had claimed my reward. Emily surrendered completely and terrifyingly to my control. It was a high in itself. Every groan that tumbled from her lips sent throbbing sound-waves crashing against the skin of my face and chest.

I thrust at her without question. Her outline before me could barely contain what I saw of her. Her flesh was changing colour. Vivid red radiated from her belly, turning hues of orange, yellow and waves of cooler green at the edges.

"I can't… you're so… Emily…" I pleaded.

I lost track of any part of me that wasn't active. Naomi was now only fingers, thumb, hand… elbow… tongue. It felt as if my very consciousness was reduced to the only part of me that mattered, contained in my arm and the new meaning it was giving to the word _beautiful._

I might have dislocated my thumb fiercely stroking her clit in complex variations. With every push in I tried new things, my fingers twisting left, then up. Charting the unexplored territory I had discovered. Finding treasures we could both enjoy. Some sweet spots rewarded me with more delicious sounds from my Emily; others simply made her colours shimmer brighter or her skin ripple and dance.

After what felt like an age, when I couldn't tell my sweat apart from hers, the change happened suddenly. It was almost deliberate; like one arbitrary drive in, one particular purposeful touch was all it was going to take all along. But I knew the stunning lead up to this was as essential to us as the now rarified air in the room.

"Ooooh… fuck, Naoms…" she cried "I'm gonna…" Emily's hands flew into my hair and pulled me down for a kiss I thought might save my life.

When she released me my jaw was sore. As I felt her internal walls crumbling and collapsing around my fingers, I looked down at her chest. Amazingly, softer pastel brushes streaked across her neck and shoulders. Pale pink fizzing sparks swirled around her tits.

It struck me then, like a smack in the face: the unselfish beauty of making a woman come.

Even more overwhelming than the exquisite pleasure Emily had given me, it obliterated my insecurities. She gripped me tightly with straining arms and clawing fingers and I stayed there inside her. _For as long as she would have me._

My lips resting in the warm crook of her neck, I trained my breathing again. I returned to human rhythms: inhale… exhale… inhale… swallow… exhale… blink…

When I knew we were both back, I rolled off her still quivering form. I wedged myself securely between her body and the cold wall. The steady feeling of the flat surface against my bare back was comforting and soothing to my flushed skin.

I reclaimed the hand that was still buried inside her and anointed my chest with her essence. As if baptising myself a newborn in some simple and silent pagan ceremony of my own creation. A smeared line of her juices marked my first… a momentous step. I ran my free hand across her cheekbone and she turned her cheek into the touch with a beatific smile.

"You…" she didn't finish.

I smiled back until the pain in my jaw was only numbness.

My redhead had let me glimpse at a stronger me. Emily proved I could deal with the shit that came with the harsh reality of morning, because Emily had shown me I could achieve amazing things.

We came down together from the lofty heights of both kinds of ecstasy. And soon the lazy, post-coital haze transformed seamlessly into sleep. I dreamt of tangled limbs and clouds of smoke.

Sometime in the early hours of the morning, I tiptoed out of the room. I passed a closed door with Effy's leather jacket slung casually on the door handle. _Katie's room I presume._ The next door was ajar and the soft light of daybreak reflecting on the tiles told me I had found the bathroom.

Returning through the kitchen, I filled two glasses from the tap and pushed the studio door closed with my back. I rested both glasses on the corner of the desk and crawled back under the quilt. The slightly chlorinated taste of the tapwater was still on my tongue when arms folded around me and wrapped me tighter. I swallowed and drifted off to catch up.

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><p><strong>And there you have it, an admittedly subjective account (as it has to be) but one I hope people can still enjoy. <strong>

**I am already working on 21 for us but, till then: 'Lovers, keep on loving. Believers, keep on believing… World, keep on turning; cause it won't be too long.'**


	21. Keffy

**Well colour me amazed! This fic is 21 chapters old. It's legally allowed to drink in the US now. Too bad nobody told the characters that earlier though. Ahh… the sweet release of Sex, Drugs and Rock&Roll! Again I should put a warning on this chapter, maybe not **_**as**_** strong as the previous. The effects are wearing off after all, but the girls are still high on something new...**

**So, where were we? Ah yes: Morning after implied Keffyness, a force unto itself…**

**This goes out to Frey. One of the reasons I started writing this; you changed my life without meaning to.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Skins. I don't own a Beta-reader either. I'm just poor lowly me but I love you all for still following regardless. I'm richer for it.**

**Anyway, enjoy Kiddies.**

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><p>The mouldings on the studio ceiling had stopped quivering by the time the dormant redhead stirred in my arms. I'd been determined not to wake her. There was something to be said for falling asleep in her arms. And yet I seemed to keep waking up wrapped protectively around her. I wasn't complaining; there were much worse ways to wake up.<p>

The tiny ball of sleep stretched and twisted around to face me.

"Mmmm... Hungry" she mumbled.

I smiled at her as her eyes slowly fluttered open. "Hungry?"

"Hungry." she nodded.

I started to push the duvet off us but Emily latched onto me and held me in place.

"No rush. Can we just stay like this... for a bit? Besides, we don't want to wake the Red Queen."

I laughed at my adorably contrary little morning creature. Wrapping the duvet back around my shoulders, I shifted myself above her. "Yeah" I kissed her forehead, "for" pecked her nose "a" bit her bottom lip "_bit._" As I looked down at Emily, a lazy Sunday morning was cracking through the small window and lighting up her true colours. It was more striking than any of the subliminal colours my mind had projected onto her the night before.

Two small hands crept their way around my back and under the waistband of my trousers, squeezing softly. "There also happens to be a hot blonde around and I'm trying to get into her pants." she arched an eyebrow suggestively.

"You're insatiable!" I countered.

All of a sudden she looked worried "Sorry, too much? I don't want to pressure you Naoms."

_Seriously? Jesus, could she get any more endearing?_

"You're not." I beamed "I already put the 'yes' in 'yesterday' Em." I worked my way around her jaw to her earlobe and gave it a gentle and hopefully reassuring tug. "I'm not going to bolt."

I felt her relax in my grip and her hands resumed their movement. "In that case, I guess it wouldn't be too forward if I asked you to... take these off?" She hooked her thumbs into my pants and flicked the elastic playfully.

"Minx!" I chuckled.

I was naked an instant later. Unfettered, I let the tip of my tongue run the length of her parted lips before kissing her properly for the first time that day. When I finished kissing her, all I wanted to do was start all over again. So I did. I pecked the corner of her mouth and the cheeky beauty spot that I had never really needed to tell her apart from Katie. Emily's hands roamed over my arse and raked up my back. It was the greatest fucking feeling in the world.

My hand found its way to her pussy by sheer muscle memory. Dipping my fingers between her legs, I was almost shocked to find a small amount of wetness already there. I slid my fingers easily over her clit and she responded immediately. Knuckles clenched around my shoulder blades. Her eyes bore deeper into mine. The intensity of her stare was such that I found it hard to tear myself away. But I did; I had a mission this morning. I was heading South, and I was determined.

Not to be deterred I shifted my weight between her legs. My mouth made its way eagerly, almost too hastily, down her stomach. My free hand anchored on her right tit. I kneaded it softly, feeling the warmth of her waking body through the flesh and rolling her nipple between my fingers. Emily's hands went back over her head and gripped the frame of the daybed. I flushed all over when I saw that; I loved _everything_ about that response.

In the morning light I could see fragments of her body more clearly up close. I ran my tongue along a thin, shallow scar on her stomach. I followed its line into her belly button, she shuddered under me.

I changed tack then and decided to tease her a little longer, playing my newfound advantage. Every second of it was exquisite. I worked my fingers more confidently since the night before, flicking against her clit and gathering more and more wetness as I dragged them up the length of her.

This was Emily, gorgeous Emily; still there in the sober light of day and she wanted me. She _still_ wanted me; not just the release of sex, but _me_. She'd been wet for me even before I'd touched her. That realisation made me throw a leg over hers and buck my own hips against her. I'd never been so forward; it had always seemed against my very nature. My stubborn streak was almost surprised that it didn't kill me. But I needed some fucking release too. It was the very prospect of not getting that release that threatened to undo me instead. So I had had no choice.

Dragging my hand from her tit to lay it flat on her stomach and replace my mouth, I moved down to stare at her cunt. It wasn't an angle I was used to, that was the least you could say. Except by this time I craved her so badly I simply couldn't contain my desire to taste her.

I shifted my hand and spread her open with two fingers and flicked the flat of my tongue roughly over her clit. She bucked so violently off the bed that I lost my grip on her lips. Holding her more firmly in place with my hand on her stomach, I licked again; slower this time. She pushed herself down further towards my face. "Oh god Naoms..." she squirmed.

The more time I spend down there, the more I started to pick up new subtler notes to her musk. The next flick of my tongue tasted salt, then artisan honey, the following a hint of bees' wax. I tried to place the next note... Fucking royal jelly! I let myself get lost in the delectable game of exploration I had discovered.

I was rudely interrupted by a harsh knock on the door. Panic set in almost instantly at the prospect of it opening on us in flagrante. _Shit! Did I lock it behind me when I got the water? It's one thing to come around to people knowing... quite another to be caught in the middle of the very throes of Sapphic rapture._

Mercifully the door didn't open. Emily cleared her throat, aiming for detached and casual. "Coming!" she called out brightly.

"Got no doubt about that, Red!" came Cook's voice from the other side of the door. "Anyway, breakfast will be served soon if you ladies are still hungry after eating each other out." he announced, followed by a peel of retreating sniggers.

Emily rolled her eyes and threw her arm over her face as I collapsed giggling with relief on top of her.

.

When we emerged from the studio into the main room, the three of them were lined up at the kitchen bench. Effy, in all her taciturn splendour, sat with her elbows on the table reading the paper and drinking her usual breakfast of black coffee. She didn't look up. Katie was still wearing a blue gel sleep-mask which no doubt reduced her peripheral vision enough for her not to even notice us come in. I was more surprised to see Cook wearing a pair of bright red headphones and bopping his head up and down to tunes loud enough that the bass was audible although not recognisable. The trio was the very image of the three wise monkeys of Easton.

When Cook saw us however, he sprung up and shed the headphones. He rounded the counter and placed them on the table, pointing at them with a grin. "Don't worry, I ain't heard _muffin'_ ladies." He wriggled his eyebrows at us immediately afterwards though, leaving me with no doubt that his sordid mind hadn't needed the audio to run him a full play by play.

Emily took my hand confidently and led me to the counter. She picked up the coffee pot and poured two generous cups, placing one in front of each of us before sitting down between Katie and me. She nudged her sister gently and Katie peeled off her eye mask to look at us. She looked very tired but she managed a wry smile. Cook rounded the counter and leapt into life at the stovetop.

"What are we having girls? _I am the Eggman_ this morning. He beat his chest for effect then crowed "Cook'coo-catchoo!" He winked at Katie but she didn't acknowledge the joke.

My brain went off on its own tangent. _Boy you've been a naughty girl you let your knickers down..._I flushed slightly and looked down into my coffee. Emily's hand squeezed slightly at my knee.

Cook's morning energy and attempts to cheer up his company were laudable. But they were falling on deaf ears. Still, not to be discouraged, he cracked a few eggs into a bowl and placed a pan on the heat with a gormless smile.

The girls exchanged silent looks at the counter while Cook fussed around the stove. Before we knew it there was a gigantic omelette being carved up before us and dished out. His job well done, Cook sat back down between his girlfriend and Effy.

"Cook! What do you think you're doing babes?" protested Katie.

I looked across to see the boy had reached for two cans of beer from the communal ice bucket of the night before and was now opening the second one. He chugged keenly at it, draining it and picking up the other before addressing Katie with a mouthful of omelette.

"What? It's past midday." He grinned, remembering to chew after a moment. "Besides, hair of the dog innit!"

Katie huffed but she didn't seem to have the energy to fight him on it. She poked at her omelette absently with her fork. A few stray pieces made it to her mouth. We ate in silence. Emily demolished her serving in record time considering the fact that she had willingly single-handed herself. Her left hand rested comfortably on my thigh the entire time.

Cook scoffed his own helping down as well before setting down his fork. He gathered the plates when it looked like everybody was done. As he lowered the dishes into the sink he broke the silence.

"So how was your night my ladies?" he asked innocently.

Effy hummed without looking up. Katie only mumbled something along the lines of _Not bad. _Emily and I nodded in unison.

"Oh come on now," said Cook "I _know _Ernie and Bert here had a good time at least!" He cocked his head in Ems' and my direction.

"Fuck off Cook, it's too early in the morning for your clumsy innuendos!" I allowed myself to think out loud.

Again he didn't seem fazed "It's afternoon babes. Nah come on... any chance of a replay for the spank bank?"

"Survey says: _Not fucking likely Cookie Monster._" Em interjected.

I simply flipped him the finger and kissed it suggestively for good measure._ That ought to do him._

Cook didn't miss a beat. "Now now Blondie... who knows where that finger's been lately..."

I looked over at Katie who was just sitting there deadpan. Her lack of a reaction to her boyfriend's crassness was eerie. From the little I knew her, it was already obvious was that submissive Katie was not a common creature. It was like the fight had been knocked out of her. I eyed Cook more seriously. "Joke's getting old mate, don't you think?"

He went to reply "Nah, never too old! Not when it comes to m-" he froze in his tracks as Effy levelled him a glare that seemed to take an instant physical hold on his nether regions. He tensed, opened and shut his mouth a few times but no further words came out. In the end he smiled and nodded at Katie's new _silent knight._

"Fair play." He shrugged, spun around and returned to clearing the kitchen.

.

An hour later I was showered, refreshed and kitted out in the least daggy laundry-day clothes I could source from my car. I sat at the coffee table with Eff while Emily took her turn in the bathroom. Katie had left us to our own affairs for a while. Cook had taken over residence in Katie's room to sleep off his breakfast.

While I was getting changed in the studio I had heard only snippets of the twins' bickering. It seemed Katie Feisty Fitch was on the mend as Emily let her test out her claws again.

"Give me a break Katie, I've been fucking busy, yeah!" wafted through the door.

"You mean _busy fucking_!" had come the biting response.

More indistinct squabbling and reasoning followed.

"Uhm... Think I wanted my slimy, cunting ex there? I don't think so. He wasn't fucking invited, was he?" stropped Katie, louder than before. "So I told him he could pretty much fuck off now. End of story Ems, ok?"

There was a pause, then Emily's voice flittered through, much quieter.

"Ok" she had said simply.

Another pause, then the sound of rustling clothing before Katie's lisp sounded muffled by something. "Right, well I need to pick up some stuff from the office." I heard heeled footsteps pass the studio door towards front entrance. "Some of us have companies to run." And the door had shut behind her.

.

Effy wasn't forthcoming with any further information as to when had happened the night before, preferring instead to simply shake her head or shrug off my questions. I gave up asking pretty quickly. We sat in silence again finishing our third coffees of the day. Like clockwork, the moment Effy got up and purposefully walked her empty cup to the sink, her phone rang on the counter. She picked it up swiftly on her way through.

"Uhuh... yup..." she nodded pointlessly at her invisible interlocutor "no... uhuh... ok." She hung up and smiled as she turned to face me.

"Freddie." she announced. I tossed her purse over. We were used to these exits. No words needed when our friendship was this well rehearsed.

_And then there were three._

With Cook still having his kip in his girlfriend's room, I paced around the apartment with a wandering eye. I ran my hand over the ornate back frame of the divan and glanced at the walls. Trendy lithographies, prints and the odd framed catalogue cover were hung at different heights. A magenta silk wall hanging took pride of place between two large windows. I peaked at the street below, it seemed quiet, even for a Sunday afternoon. A print of Audrey Hepburn hung near the bathroom door. On the other side was a framed article from _Suit Yourself _magazine, discretely captioned at the bottom: _Designer – Katie Fitch Fashion._

I passed the bathroom door; the shower was still running within. Beyond it, as I neared the main bedroom door, there was a long frame containing three glossy black and white photos.

The first was a full family picture, taken some years back, the twins looked about 12. A man with broad shoulders and an even broader grin beamed warmly at the camera while the slender woman by his side looked incredibly composed and almost cold by comparison. A young James was barely recognisable with his hair parted and scraped neatly back to within an inch of its life. He didn't look happy about it. The twins stood side by side behind their brother. If the formality of the sitting had been dictated by their mother, as I suspected, I was no longer surprised where Katie got her flair for image and appearances.

The second photo was a single shot of James which Katie must have chosen over other more arguably 'successful' ones. The boy was half grinning, half grimacing towards the camera, bearing all his teeth with a crazed look and a glint in his eye. He had obviously run his hand through his hair, messing it up at the end of the shoot and the capture had been taken more candidly by the photographer. _Good choice Katie! _I thought with a smile.

The third and final photo was a twin shot. Again, I didn't need Emily's beauty-spot to tell the younger twin from her sister despite the fact that they were identically dressed. Their respective eye lines said it all.

I stared at cute little twelve year old Emily until I heard a cough from behind me. I turned to see adult Emily standing outside the bathroom door. Her hair was wet and sticking to her neck, dripping slightly onto her shoulders. Only a modest green towel clung to her small frame. _Lucky towel!_

"You look gorgeous." I said. It felt like a euphemism for what she was. Emily wasn't a euphemism for anything.

She smiled shyly and ran a hand through her hair. "Clean again at least." She shrugged.

I think it was the family photos that made me do it. "Wanna come to my Birthday party?" I blurted out. _What the fuck? I don't even do birthday parties! 'Arbitrary construct that they are,' yes, thank you Gina._ I just wanted to earmark another opportunity to get Emily, drinks, music and dancing in the same room again.

Emily giggled. "Sure! When?" She didn't seem worried by my utterly random topic change.

"Next month, November 23rd" I thought on my feet. "I think it's a Saturday."

"I'm there."

When we were out on the landing and Emily slipped Katie's spare key through the defunct letter hole, she tugged on the front of my blouse and pecked me on the lips then looked down with a smile. "You've got Monday buttoned with Tuesday by the way."

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><p><strong>And another one bites the dust. Apologies to anyone who got their hopes up at the mention of Keffy in the title. There's more to soul-mates than making monkey and Naomi wasn't privy to whatever happened behind that door.<strong>

**On a more pragmatic note, I'm working at shorter spaced updates, like my first ten, as I ease myself back into the working year. Perhaps a weekly fix? **

**As always, while I write mostly for myself, my little Naomily heart is aflutter with your every alert, favorite and review. So this is my gentle nudge in the direction of that little button down the bottom here. Keep'em coming lovelies! And I promise to keep the tap open on the chapters.**


	22. A Scooter Named Frank

**Apologies time again! Sorry about the delay, you lovely folk who are still reading. I was busy planning this chapter and then life happened. It's making up for my putting life on standby when I started this fic I guess. Now I'm taking both life and SPHRP off hold and will attempt to juggle the beauty that is both. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Skins. If I did and was paid to write this stuff, I might not end up doing much else... **

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><p>The weeks leading up to my birthday sped up and kind of got ahead of me. I spent most of them catching up to myself; falling asleep at Emily's place, waking up at my new desk in Gina's department with Hobbsy asking me about my weekend.<p>

He was a congenial enough guy. I guess I just wasn't focused enough to indulge his desire for banter. I started to lose track of the days of the week and knew them only as 'Kieran days' and 'Angie days' until I could return to weekends of 'Emily days'. Those were my favourite. I went from being my own stubborn person to being attached to someone else at every waking moment. Sometimes even during non-waking moments; those were nice... This newfound sociable Naomi wasn't really me but I didn't have much time to stop and dwell on it or freak out. I chose not to for now anyway. It's not like my previous life-track had gotten me very far.

On evenings when I wasn't out with Emily, I fought to find time with Thomas or caught up with Michelle and the rest of the scribblers at the Sleepout. Josh's nod of approval of me seemed to dictate the rest of the group's acceptance so the gang had taken me into their midst quite happily from the first meeting.

I found these Wednesdays to be the ideal midweek outlet for my more romantic writer's yearnings. In between crunching elaborate events into four-to-eight-hundred-word nuggets, I could go out and wax lyrical with kindred spirits about what we felt modern journalism _should_ be. We'd talk about being whistleblowers, instruments of change - like Emile Zola and his _J'Accuse _-about provoking thought and challenging the status quo. We debated the pros and cons of WikiLeaks, freedom of information laws and non-interventional reporting. We argued about new media, this online publication and that; the older Planeteers and purists bemoaning the loss of the tactile experience of the printed page, whilst the younger guns were all about the instant and interactive information promoted by web-journalism. Regardless we all wanted to move beyond the paraphrase report, passive commentary and opinion pieces. We had bigger dreams, and Tony and Josh had set up a framework for reaching at them.

I struck up a comfortable friendship with Michelle. Her outward beauty and warmth aside, she was also cerebral and caring almost to a fault. She was the strong, quiet woman behind Josh's driving creative force. It seemed she did a lot of freelance writing of her own from Bristol in the background, while he assigned the postings and sent the group's emissaries around the globe.

Mum was starting to get restless and driving poor Kieran spare with messages for me, not so subtly attempting to guilt-trip her daughter into more 'family time'. Her thinly veiled 'subliminal' hints consisted mostly of mentions of her latest vegan culinary triumphs which I was supposed to find appetising. Although sometimes they extended to her dropping the names of activist friends, her equivalent of celebrities, who were in town visiting and which I "simply had to meet!"

I obliged her once a week during our regular catch up, more for Kieran's sanity and my own peace of mind at work than to satisfy her motherly urges. During these dinners she regaled me with stories of some petition or other that she'd started or an upcoming peaceful demonstration she was planning to camp out at. This was no different to the Gina norm though, if you could call it that. What had changed was that I was being drowned in questions about 'this Emily girl', the reason I'd "removed the Holy Joe stick that was lodged up my sphincter" as Kieran put it.

I swatted most of the questions away like so many pests. But in reality, each of them brought about as many previously out of character sappy gushes and deliciously filthy flashbacks. If I'd dared open my mouth to answer any of my mother's questions, I couldn't have been accountable for what might come out in the crossfire.

The best evenings however, I went to Emily's place when she wasn't tending bar or I would meet her at her work and watch the artist on stage while she finished an early shift before I could take her out. She knew most of the singers that crossed the boards of the pub's modest stage and would usually fill me in on the back story of how they'd fallen into music.

On one such evening I took the bus to Denmark Street after work and found my usual stool between the bar and the stage. I hoisted my bag off my shoulders, dropping it to the floor, and perched there to scan the room. There was already someone on stage and the sounds of acoustic pop-folk filled the small pub as I faced the bar looking for my girlfriend.

I wasn't particularly interested in the act on stage; they all started to blend together when I came in to fetch Emily. The best of them would play on weekend nights and Ems would let me know when one worth seeing came around. The set that night sounded pleasant for sure, but it was background music and I wasn't going to be sticking around to watch them.

It wasn't long before I spotted the familiar pompadour pop up from behind the countertop, holding two beers in one hand and a chilled, empty martini glass in the other. She acknowledged me with a warm smile while she mixed the third drink with casual ease and set it down in front of the group who had ordered them.

The _Bunch of Grapes _was starting to fill up with the after-work crowd. It was known for its relaxed atmosphere and popular acoustic nights. I'd observed over the weeks that six o'clock was the main shift change for the night. Like clockwork at 6.08pm, two of Emily's colleagues walked in through the small back kitchen.

"Thom, Bianca." Emily greeted them with a wave from across the room and pulled her waist apron off.

"Fear not; the cavalry has arrived!" Thom announced proudly rounding the bar and donning a black apron of his own, tossing one to Bianca. They regularly took over from Emily for the weekday evening shifts and I suspected they had been for a while before I came along as they seemed to have developed a comfortable shorthand method in working and communicating with each other.

The place was now buzzing with people and the sheer volume from the crowd rivaled the sound levels coming out of the stage's large amps. The newest groups, fresh in from the cold, were flocking to the bar for their first round. Bianca offered me a quick nod, downed what I'd learnt was her customary shot of liquid fortitude and started serving immediately.

Emily dithered a bit behind the bar, replacing empty bottles of house wine, checking the keg taps and tightening the spirit optics. Bianca playfully hip-checked her out of the way when a patron ordered a couple of pints of cider and again when they both reached for the same empty glass to clear the counter.

"I'm sorry hun, what the fuck are you still doing here?" she asked.

"I just thought I'd... it's busy- "

"Fitch, Go!" Thom shoved her towards me.

We left with the sound of laughter drowned out by the music and conversation as the door swung closed behind us.

The tail end of October had brought rain to the usual brisk but sunny skies of Bristol. As we approached Emily's scooter, the garish orange helmet was shoved into my arms before I could protest. Em had already thrown a leg over the equally bold orange moped and looked back at me with an impish corner smile from under her own helmet's visor. I huffed out of habit and pushed the helmet onto my head, shuffling up behind her and preparing to hold on for dear life.

Gina had been ecstatic when I'd told her Emily rode a moped "Good girl! Someone who cares about fuel consumption and greenhouse gasses." she'd exclaimed. Happy enough to hear that Emily was easily gaining favour with mum, I had refrained from pointing out that it had more to do with cost saving, convenience not to mention 'Frank's undeniable coolness' (Em's words). I also personally felt like the damn things were death-traps on wheels. But that last opinion made me feel way too old and unadventurous in relation to my hip mother to admit either.

So I'd gotten used to riding pillion with Emily, even though she seemed to delight in reminding me this made me ipso facto her 'bitch'. In a way, it wasn't unlike riding my bike, only a lot faster, and closer to other vehicles, and with the inherent possibility of pain, injury or death... Still I leaned into the curves and looked straight ahead over her shoulder as she weaved through traffic on the slick, wet roads and we were soon pulling up in front of the Odeon cinema. Emily removed her riding goggles while I dismounted and brushed raindrops off my shoulders and the front of my slacks.

The sly thing had refused to tell me what our Halloween plans were; only saying we'd be going to the movies. So I wasn't surprised when we secured the Fitchmobile by the kerb and headed inside the old building. What she did next piqued my suspicions though. Emily slung her shoulder bag around and reached in to procure two raincoats. She handed me one and donned the other before taking her hair down and mussing it up, clipping it on the side with a single barrette.

I eyed her skeptically as she did this but she only cocked her head and held out a checkered bow tie and horn-rimmed glasses in response. I fed both arms through the sleeves and glanced up at the vaulted glass ceiling of the lobby as if looking for the rain to start falling on me or some other explanation for this daft clothing change. When nothing happened, Emily giggled and clipped the tie into place for me while I pushed the lens-less glasses onto my face.

Adjusting to my reduced peripheral vision, I was dragged by the hand up a flight of stairs and into the tail end of a long queue of gatherers. I blinked a couple of times and took in the unusually clothed people ahead of us. A couple of similar pale pink dresses first caught my eye. Then, as I looked up, I noticed a smattering of party hats. Quite a few people in the line wore sleeveless leather jackets over jeans and boots. That's when one turned around and the streak of fake blood across his forehead confirmed it was indeed Halloween. All the pieces suddenly fell into place. I scanned the room for confirmation of my suspicions and my eyes fell on a poster board at the head of the queue advertising tonight's event:

_Rocky Horror Picture Show_

_Live Screening _

I turned slowly back to Emily who was now grinning ear to ear. Rolling my eyes at her, I smiled to let her know her elaborate surprise had had the desired effect. The rest of the anteroom was done up in traditional Allantide fashion. Fake cobwebs strung in the corners and weathered timber barrels brimmed with wax apples. Only the lights along the bar were lit, the rest of the room illuminated only by horseshoe and candle centrepieces on wrought iron high tables. The line started to move forward and I grabbed the still smirking redhead by the hand.

"C'mon Janet." I huffed, pulling us forward towards the Riffraff dressed usher.

"Oh Brad!" she giggled, and I had to laugh with her.

The theatre was set up as a normal screening room but for the pit, which had been artificially elevated to house a small band in the centre and four microphones on stands off to one side. Singers in full costume took turns at the mics, covering each of their songs as they appeared in the movie. The audience merrily sung along to all the words and even added heckling between lines. Off in the far corner a woman, dressed all in black behind a long trestle table, operated a whole series of Foley sound effects at opportune moments. Heads spun in her direction every time this happened to see which curious contraption was used to create the sound of creaking, metal doors clanging, footsteps, 'sonic oscillator' machinery or splashing...

During the movie, Emily reached into her bag several more times, pulling out props as they were needed. The whole audience tossed rice and confetti at the band, shone flashlights around the theatre and fired water pistols into the air. Emily and I huddled together under the minimal shelter of our copy of the Evening Post. I became thoroughly grateful for the raincoats we were wearing as the water spraying from all directions hit our cheeks and ran down our necks.

Emily shrieked playfully and dove into my side as a stray jet soaked her hair. I threw my arms protectively around her as simulated thunder resonated around the room. Her saturated hair matted around her face was darker now that it was wet. Soon the entire crowd was on their feet, doing the Time Warp with enthusiasm. I joined in _under duress_, collapsing fittingly into my seat when the song ended.

While the rest of the audience whirled noise-makers and cheered, Emily placed a hand on my damp cheek and leaned in to kiss me. The crowd continued to heckle at the characters on screen and she continued kissing me. Her lips moved gently against mine and we sunk further into the old velour seating as her tongue slipped easily into my mouth. Unaccustomed to public displays of affection as I was, there was also little doubt that the crowd's attention was otherwise occupied. So I relaxed into her tentative embrace and threaded my fingers through the wet red hair that fell down her neck.

My thumb brushed against the shell of her ear and she moaned softly. The sound of that moan enveloped us so completely; it drowned out all other noises surrounding us. The safe cocoon of darkness cloaked us in a moment of public intimacy I allowed myself to experience. Focussing solely on the quiet cycle of her breathing, I let her pull me closer into her, until I felt her other hand on my lap and a recognisable tingling and wetness start up between my legs.

Reticently, I pulled away and gazed in awe at the gamine face of my girlfriend. How she could look so innocent and yet drive me to such a frenzied state of near abandon, I couldn't quite comprehend.

I was snapped back into the performance in front of us when Frank-N-Furter unveiled his creature to the audience both on and off screen, to a live drum roll and a cracking series of theatrical sound effects. The young blonde man who emerged in Rocky's fitted gold shorts was beautifully lean and sculpted. The next song was given its own choreographed solo routine, which the performer executed between the bandstand and the first row of seats. The sophisticated composition was obviously inspired by exercise routines and acrobatics. It had the dancer running up and down the aisles, doing elegant one-armed pushups, lunges and flexing his toned muscles for members of the audience.

When this number was over the crowd burst into animated applause along with the characters on screen and we were reminded that we had been watching a movie before this spectacle. The dancer allowed himself a rather winning smile before he sauntered back to the small stage in character.

The aging cult appeal of the movie came alive again through the performance. Scene after scene, the fans seemed to claim ownership of their favourite moments. By the time the credits rolled, the cast had dragged the loudest audience members from their seats to join in the chorus.

We shuffled back into the lounge area to find the ushers had stocked the bar with warm drinks to suit the theme. Emily and I ordered a _Janet's Apple Pie_ each and were served two hot spiced ciders. We made our way to one of the standing tables and I tried to contain my effusive review of the production to retain some aura of poise with Emily. Lately I found myself really growing into my job as reviewer. It's not like I'd previously had any trouble keeping my opinions to myself. Only now I'd learned I could actually show a degree of enthusiasm if things were done right.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it Naoms," she chuckled "Thought it might be more fun than just... going to the movies."

I smiled. "Well dammit, Janet!" I shot her a knowing wink "You thought right. Thanks for tonight; I had fun."

I picked up my mug of cider and took a long gulp. The warm liquid was the perfect antidote after being drenched by super-soaker friendly fire. Emily's hair was drying in ringlets around her face. I reached across to tuck one behind her ear.

"So..." I ventured "What are you doing this Friday night? I think it's my turn to take you out."

Emily's nose crinkled as she frowned. "Ugh! I'm sorry I can't; Fitch Family Fiasco."

It was my turn to frown in confusion. Emily saw she'd lost me so she filled me in quickly.

"It's James' expression. Mum likes to call them Fitch Family Feasts. They're a monthly dinner... shall we say... _obligation_, we have to attend. It's really the only time I see mum and dad nowadays and this is still a recent development after the infamous fall-out... well you know about that."

I placed my hand over hers on the table as she continued.

"I could drop by yours though. After I've paid my dues with the Wicked Fitch of the West, that is."

I was still laughing when the handsome dancer from earlier approached us casually in slacks and an enviably warm and comfortable looking hoodie.

"Hey Red, I assumed for obvious reasons you'd be coming as Magenta."

"Congratulations you!" Emily hugged him. "What are you drinking?"

His grin widened "Mulled wine please. I'm a sucker for a _Sweet Transvestite._" He winked at me with that last comment.

Emily set down her empty mug and took us both by the hand, setting off in the direction of the bar.

"Naomi, meet Max Oliver. Maxxie, this is my girlfriend: Naomi." She said.

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><p><strong>Voila. It took me so long to put this one together that I then started to agonize over whether I was still doing it right. Leave a review if you think I haven't, or have – your choice. :-)<strong>

**Take care, my lovelies.**

**BE F xx**


	23. Maxxie

**No more apologies and no more predictions. I resolve myself to posting when I post, que sera sera. Suffice it to say I fully intend to keep writing and finish this story. So for any of you out there who are worried about a drought in the supply: fear not, the chapters will come when they're ready.**

**I think this chapter took even longer ironically because nothing much really happens in tangible terms. But these two are about moments more than events and more happens inside Naomi Campbell's head than can be put to words sometimes.**

**So here you have it… Chapter 23!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Skins. I couldn't afford it these days.**

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><p>I placed the thick rimmed glasses on the table in front of me and rubbed the bridge of my nose while Maxxie slid into the booth across from us. The Moon had become everyone's preferred haunt for a late feed when most other places had long closed their kitchens and hung up aprons. Our beakers of mojitos arrived with food menus and I let my mind wander in and out of the conversation Maxxie and Emily had started while I decided what I felt like eating at this late hour.<p>

Our clothes had now had a chance to dry during the crisp night ride over and a warm sensation was starting to wash over me under the red lights of the lanterns that bathed our table. The drink was sweet and smooth; Emily's hand was on my knee, soft and now familiar. The two of them were a drink ahead of me by the time I made up my mind on my order.

Maxxie continued to smile and look at me for confirmations of Emily's recount of how and when we got together. Emily's tale had started rather timidly, the overtone of each anecdote was different to the way I would have told it and I started to see the last month through her eyes.

Progressively she sunk into her performance groove again and her stage persona took over the story-telling. But her recount of our early courtship – _if you can call it that_ – continued to expose her anxieties and uncertainty that her attraction to me was reciprocated. She even regaled in the telling of those details, throwing her head back and laughing her warm husky laugh when she recalled how nervous she had been sharing that first cigarette with me.

_Well fuck me! She'd sauntered up so casually and shown such apparent confidence when she'd asked to bum a smoke... I never would have guessed at the self-doubt lurking behind those strong russet eyes. _But now the two halves that were Emily Fitch on and off stage were coming together, the coyness and the cool confidence, the shyness and the showmanship, Katie's shadow and the brave woman that had emerged from it to stand up for herself, the night and the day, one and the same.

"If I hadn't been two Blue-Eyed Blondes and several vodka shots down, I don't think I would have had the balls." She admitted to Maxxie.

The boy across the table grinned and looked to me again "Ah, the power of the blondes!"

He let the double-entendre linger between us with a wink.

But I knew while the drink had helped her make the first move, there was more strength bubbling behind the facade than the small girl would claim credit for. I'm almost certain Maxxie knew it too.

I began to understand that I had read the twins wrong. Emily was not this mousey, timid wallflower with a forced bravado front, developed out of necessity to perform. The strong woman was the woman inside, the nugget you only saw when she shed her timid shell and allowed herself to shine. The Emily on stage was not a performer, she wasn't projecting a character; it was truly her.

Katie on the other hand, had demonstrated at her party that the fierce twin was softer and more fragile inside than her sister. Her hard edges had become a part of her character, but the older twin had a depth and vulnerability I would not have guessed was there on our first meeting that day at the market. It became evident that the twins were not just two halves of the same zygote but two versions of what a person with the same lot in life could become. They completed each other perfectly, soul mates of a different kind.

I realized there and then what Emily had truly meant when she'd said she wouldn't lie to Katie about us. There was a symbiosis at work between the two, which my mother would have loved to describe as ESP or telepathy, but which effectively meant they would defend each other fervently and unconditionally. It was a bond that went beyond a normal sibling relationship because the empathy was genetically coded into them. Emily knew exactly what it took to upset Katie, which is why she'd been so upset herself as a result. It also made complete sense to me now how, despite superficial adolescent teasing leading up to it, when the chips really tumbled down and the clash between Emily and her mother came to a head, Katie had shown her true colours and her loyalty to her twin and stood by her ever since.

My increasing respect for Katie grew tenfold in that moment and my admiration and affection for Emily soared to heights that I couldn't measure. I squeezed Emily's hand on my knee as Maxxie's cheerful voice drifted across the booth, teasing her about her barmaid moves and _did she always make girls a cocktail named for them to get into their pants..._

My mind was torn from its digression as Em protested loudly at the accusation and the waitress approached to take our orders. When Bonnie recognized me, a flash of mischief came across her eyes.

"Naomi! How did the expedition go, Tuesday last? You and Cook have any luck getting the–"

"Caesar salad... for me please" I blurted out. "Sorry... Bonnie, this is Maxxie..."

Maxxie nodded and extended his hand.

"Maxxie is Emily's friend..." I turned to the redhead who was looking at me with one part confusion and two parts amusement, waiting to see where I was going to take this.

"You remember Emily too? From the week before?" _Oh sod it! _"... my girlfriend."

_So there it was, the give and the take_. The label I'd actually enjoyed hearing pass her lips, I was now using myself. Emily smiled tentatively at me, then at Bonnie as it grew wider.

"Hi." She motioned with her free hand.

"Oh, right." Bonnie smiled as well "Nice to see you again. So that's one Caesar..."

She entered my order into the machine she'd removed from her belt with a chuckle and looked back up at the other two. "And what can I get you two?"

Emily and Maxxie ordered and Bonnie disappeared into the kitchen. Before the hovering question was dropped on me, I volunteered an explanation for my supposed 'expedition'.

"I met Effy, Freddie and Cook here for dinner the other night and Cook had one of his many errands to run in the area afterwards, you know, pick up some stuff... I dunno. Anyway, you know Cook; he loved telling it to her like it was this huge mission, bigger than Ben Hur, and we were all required to assist."

The twosome nodded and nothing further was said about it.

By the time our food came, Maxxie had caught Emily up on his latest projects and had ventured down a tangent about a gorgeous young man called Jesse who worked for the events branch of the city council. They'd met when Maxxie's troupe had been hired to close a street market festival and he was convinced the other boy was "gay as the day is long" despite very little interaction and only clues to the contrary. Still he was determined to get behind the other boy's defences and have his shot.

There was something so charming about the way Maxxie told this story; his self-confidence and bravado seemed genuine but not unreasonable. His body language was more tempered than his words and I detected a strong hint of affection for this Jesse that made me want to know how the story would end.

"He's called us back to open the ceremonies on Guy Fawkes' night this weekend. I'm lighting the stake." He grinned with pride like a child who'd been told he could sound the car horn. "You'll come, yeah?"

"Ah, the gunpowder treason and plot," mused Emily "I know of no reason why not."

"Sweet!" Maxxie beamed. "Naomi?"

I liked this guy "Sure, I'm in. I love a good dying tradition of mischief and civil unrest."

"Excellent! I'll arrange tickets for you two but you should tell your housemates to come too Ems. I know Tony will be there, but I'm less sure about Chris and Sid or Effy even. I'll count on you to recruit me a faithful audience and bring the press." He smiled at me.

We finished our food and called for the bill. Maxxie threw enough notes to cover him on the counter and hugged us both.

"Catch up with you two on Saturday then, I'll leave tickets for you with Tone. See if you can't get us a good review though, eh Naomi."

He clicked his tongue in jest and shrugged his fists back into his jacket pockets. The dancer then spun gracefully on his heels, pushed through the door and started down the street.

Bonnie muscled past the skinny lad who had tallied up our bill and took over at the cash register.

"OK let's see, with the drinks... £42.50 – ... call it £40." She added when she saw Emily drunkenly fumbling with the notes and coins we had gathered. The petite redhead perched on one of the barstools to afford her a sightline over the counter.

She pushed the coins aside and started slurring slightly "Ten, fifteen, twenty-five, thirty...five – Naomi there's only a tenner left."

She looked up at me with the sweetest look of confusion and any uneasiness I might have felt at standing between her and Bonnie melted into the remaining warmth of affection that had been steadily building all night. I leant on the stool next to hers, pulled the five out of her hand and added the ten before handing the total over. Bonnie smiled; Emily giggled and hopped off her stool, scooping my hand into hers.

"Thanks Bonnie" I supplied.

"See you next time ladies." Bonnie nodded kindly at us both, making her dreadlocks bounce lightly around her face. "Take care."

As I made it towards the door, I felt a tug on my arm. I turned my head to see Emily reaching back with her free hand to drop the coins into a large tip jar. She skipped back to my side and followed me out onto the cold sidewalk. She landed a messy kiss on my cheek.

"I like her." Emily decided out loud. "She's still keen on you though. Can't blame her, I guess."

A bony elbow padded in thick overcoat found my ribs. I bundled us back to the scooter which was waiting for us around the corner under an awning.

Emily pondered a second before suggesting a plan. "We should leave Frank here and cab it back to mine. Do you erm... you wanna come home with me?"

_Good god, there's that killer corner smile again. _

I pulled her around the moped and tucked her hands inside my jacket. Our lips met confidently this time as I cradled her face in my hands.

"Mine's closer" I murmured when I pulled away briefly. I kissed her a little harder on the dark street and pushed my fingers through soft red hair. A whistle echoed from across the street, startling me for a moment and forcing me to jerk away slightly. But Emily, who had recovered and relaxed into our embrace just turned to shield me from the direction of the noise.

"Shhh.." she whispered against my lips with another deadly smile, her eyes darting between mine as we stood too close for her to take me all in, in her intoxicated state.

She pushed me against the wall and kissed me, unapologetic and proud. My head swam and my knees buckled but Emily had found her stride. Knee-high to a grasshopper she may be, but she knew how to use her body. She placed a foot between mine and held me fast against the rough surface without a struggle.

I let her tongue invade my mouth, I let her knee push up against me, I let my breathing return to normal as my heartbeat raced on ahead and she kissed me slowly. She took her time. The footsteps grew quiet in the distance. When they had silenced completely and all I could hear was the patter of my pulse under my collar, Emily released me.

"Yours it is then, come on." She kicked the scooter off the stand, placed a hand on either side of the handlebars and pushed off on foot. A few meters on she looked back. "Uhm... you may need to lead the way..."

I jogged over to my girlfriend and took the bike from her, manoeuvred it around to face the other direction and lead on down the street towards the flat. We walked the quiet streets with her hand on mine. The trip must have taken a few minutes but in my mind it was distilled into this perfect moment where our only contact was a single hand on the machine between us. I held the weight steady and pushed us onwards. The hum of remote traffic, our own syncopated footsteps and the squeak of Frank's tyres on the bitumen, I etched every detail into the growing list of Emily memories in my brain.

When we got home, I pushed the bike into the foyer and guided a sleepy Emily up the stairs. By the time I came out of the bathroom with a toothbrush in my mouth, I found my small redhead climbing into bed, wearing the T-Shirt she'd found folded on top of my dresser. Two porcine ears, outlined in black, peaked out from under the duvet as she nestled in.

A blob of toothpaste rolled off my lip when the biggest grin of the night stretched its way across my face. I finished my ablutions and slid in beside her supine form. A gentle sigh escaped her lips as she rolled around to face me but she kept her eyes closed.

I placed a kiss on the corner of her parted lips and nestled in closer. Her warm body was the antidote to my neurosis, her presence enough to accept a label as a proud blessing; just her hand on my knee was push enough for me to reciprocate, her protective embrace the armour I needed to withstand public scrutiny and my fear of judgment.

As I closed my own eyes and began to drift off, further words and labels and emotions swirled around in my head. I felt the pads of Emily's fingers on my sternum and three words close the small gap between us.

"Thank you, Naomi."

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><p><strong>So I've been lax in my updates for cause of travels and a full life. I wish you all a slice of the same beauty that has graced my life of late. It's everywhere; some of you know it already. Meanwhile take care and keep reading and writing through it all.<strong>

**BE F xx**


	24. Fitch Family Fiasco

**Back for another helping. I know I'm not the only one here who can say that, at least at times, writing and reading these pieces is something of a lifeline. So I've delved back into my next chapter with a vengeance this month and this is the result.**

**This one, for what it's worth, is for my safety net and my beautiful catcher. I trust you friends and love you madly.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Skins, I owe Skins.**

**PS. This chapter contains... plot... which is not safe to read in public. (Unless you're into that kind of thing ;)...)  
><strong>

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><p>Emily was over an hour late by the time she made it to my front door.<p>

Thomas was spending the night at Panda's so I had the place to myself, waiting for the infamous Fitch Family Feast to finish. Even before Emily's planned 9pm arrival, I had been running myself a little frantic, pouring myself a glass of pinot for dinner and then finishing the bottle whilst I began to worry about where she was. The monthly family dinner was not something Emily looked forward to, so I'd begun the evening fretting over what parental neurosis she would be dealing with at the time.

My experience of parental units was admittedly drastically different to hers and, although I was still mostly in the dark about her parents, I knew I'd gotten the better deal with Gina. About the worst thing Gina ever did was constantly embarrass the hell out of me. Though I wondered what it would be like to have a dad that actually had the balls to stick around. Kieran had gone some way to filling in the gap left by my shithead of a father. But in the end he didn't want to replace that twat, and I was happier having him for a friend. That way I could still rip his balls out if he ever hurt mum. Thankfully that didn't seem likely to occur any time soon.

Emily though, she didn't have the option. And there she was now, facing up to... well that's the thing... I didn't even know. Icy stares and monosyllabic small-talk? Long recounts of her dad's day at the gym over broccoli quiche? Heated arguments about the difference between the way things were and the way they should be?

By about nine thirty, I started to worry that Emily had been too exhausted to come by as promised and gone home to bed instead. _She could have at least called though... _I thought.

Half an hour later the street was even quieter and still no sign of life or peep from her. By now I was feeling let down and pretty fucking stupid. I refused to believe my baser instincts, shouting at me that she'd got what she wanted and decided to move on.

It hadn't seemed like that was her angle; I thought I'd read something so utterly sincere in her. But then again, if I had been dense enough to buy it, I guess I probably deserved it. I redirected my anger to myself, where it belonged. I struggled with plausible reasons and cursed my contrary nature. I didn't know whether to trust the cynic or the dreamer in me. I felt confused. I blamed the wine. I poured myself another glass.

By the time ten thirty rolled around, I had decided she wasn't going to show. I'd changed into my pyjamas and picked a shitty movie to curl up in front of and fall asleep feeling sorry for myself.

All thoughts of spite and self pity left me in a flash when I opened the door to find Emily, looking even smaller than usual, on the stoop. I leaned forward and placed my lips cautiously to her flushed cheek. Her arms instantly flung themselves around my shoulders, pulling me into a tight hug.

I walked us backwards into the flat while she continued to cling to my body.

"Ems, what hap-" I began.

"Don't" she mumbled into my chest. "Just... not now, please."

"Right." I stroked her hair away from her face with my free hand and kissed her forehead.

When she pulled away to arms' length, I saw fresh tears welling in her eyes, clinging to her lashes and threatening to fall. Taking her hand in mine, I led her to the sofa. I scooped up a bottle of vodka on my way past the defunct mantelpiece which had become my liquor shelf. I sat in the deep couch and she perched next to me. Very quickly, she let her body fall against me and rested her head in my lap.

I took a long swig of the liquor and swallowed hard, resolving myself to the growing head-buzz and probable hangover I could deal with in the morning. I lowered the bottle into Emily's hand and she took a several impressive gulps. I rid her of her hair-tie and brushed her hair loose with my fingers. The bottle exchanged hands a few more times while I kept watch over her and she stared a hole into the opposite wall.

The menu screen played its muted loop on the tv. I let the weight of my arm drop around the small girl's ribs; just letting her know I was there. She reached for my hand and laced her fingers through mine. When she squeezed loosely, my confused nerve endings sent a faint pain from my knuckles to my brain. I focused instead on my slowing breathing and the repeated swell of Emily's ribcage under my arm. I ignored the pressing questions, overlooked the growing discomfort in my limbs, cast aside my own neurosis for the night.

When the liquid had dipped below the half-way mark on the bottle, Emily rolled onto her back and looked up at me. Her eyes were glassy from the drink but her hand was steady when she reached for my cheek. A thumb brushed gently against my cheekbone as four cold fingers curled behind my neck.

I gazed down at her beautiful face and she leaned up to meet my smiling lips. We kissed softly, I let her dictate the pace. When she let her head fall back onto my lap, my timid smile was on her lips.

It was what happened after that which really gave that smile wings.

"You know I love you, right?" slipped quietly through her parted lips.

In that moment, invisible strings took hold of my face. Some romantic sap beyond my control tugged tightly at the corners of my mouth and eyes. _Alert the 'Gray's Anatomy' publishers, I have just discovered the true location of the heart strings._ It seemed my brain was not prepared for my body's reaction to her words. I felt the warm buzz of the alcohol course through my whole system like her words were a potent accelerant. My body, drunk on vodka and Emily Fitch, overrode my natural propensity to over-think as well as my ability to form coherent sentences.

"I know... I..." I managed to stammer out; so much for being good with words.

"It's ok," Emily cut me off "As long as you know."

Our next kiss was more forceful. I pressed my lips hard against hers. When we touched, the warm feeling swelled lower within me. When she kissed back, the heat of desire melted away my shyness. When my tongue caressed hers, I dissolved quite literally into a pool of lust.

Emily let the bottle slip between the couch cushions and hooked her fingers more confidently around my neck, pulling me into her. We kissed for an age. It was rough and it was messy and she tasted of cheap, bitter vodka. I just wanted her more. My pussy started to tingle as the wetness between my legs only grew.

"Take me to bed?" She whispered against my lips.

I sat bolt upright at that request. Her eyes were unwavering and I knew we both wanted this. I reached for her hand and guided her upstairs to my room. By the time we reached my bed she had already shed her top and I was busy peeling off my own. I pushed her onto the mattress and took a second to look at her, to really see her. Perched there on the end of my bed in boring brown trousers, her skin and hair were the brightest things in the room.

I dragged my eyes over her lithe upper body and felt short of air. I wanted to rid her of these dull layers which shielded her inner beauty and the strong woman I had discovered within. So I started with her clothes. Peeling her slacks down her legs, I climbed over her onto the bed.

She closed her eyes as I led a trail of kisses up her sternum to her chin. The feel of her almost naked body beneath mine was enough. Enough to ignite the hunger of the animal I didn't know hid within me until I had met her.

"I need you naked." I growled, almost to myself.

Emily just moaned in response. I reached around her back with both hands and managed to wrench her bra open this time. Grinning to myself, I threw the garment over my shoulder and continued my ascent. My tongue surged into her mouth as my fingers hooked into the waistband of her pants. I pulled them off unashamedly and licked up her inner thigh, connecting her knee to her hipbone with my tongue, as I moved back up her body.

I was only growing in confidence as my lust for her crashed through the ceiling. Her legs fell open invitingly and I couldn't resist running my hand through her wetness when the scent of her arousal reached me. My head reeled at the feeling of her rich juices coating my fingers.

"Fuck me, please fuck me Naomi." she gasped when she felt me.

She lolled her head from side to side as her own hand shot to mine, pushing me desperately against her pussy. I was her willing prisoner, ensnared without chains, only lust as my shackles.

With my hand trapped and not fighting it, I let my mouth roam freely instead over her breasts. Emily's eyes stayed closed; she arched her back towards me. She was giving herself to me and it was my job to make her feel better, make her feel good, just make her feel. Whatever had upset her, I knew had something to do with her family. It didn't really matter what it was, this was an act of cathartic rebellion against it. We were making something more powerful than any shit she'd just dealt with. She just wanted to make it insignificant by comparison, and make the pain of it insignificant too.

We could both deal with long term shit in the morning; this was about short term gratification and release. So I teased her nipples in turn with my lips and tongue until I was sore from the strain. Meanwhile my fingers slid the lavish length of her over and over again.

Her moans sounded like plaintive whimpers and I almost couldn't bear to hear such tension in her gorgeous voice. It reminded me too much that something, someone had upset her. The sound of her pervaded me so completely it could devastate me. I ran my lips up her neck wanting to turn all evidence of sadness into sounds of joy or no sound at all. I did all I could think to eradicate anything that dared cloud her beautiful brightness.

I kissed the tendons along her neck to her jaw as my fingers found her clit. I stroked her fervently, brow furrowed and eyes clenched shut in effort. Her body twisted and contorted at the smallest of my motions. Her legs began to quiver and I felt her pulse race as I sucked at the skin under her slender jaw. I kissed her tenderly and swallowed her rising cries.

Her arms left her sides and curled around me, embracing me tighter till there was no space left between our bodies. I slowed my now limited movements and pushed my tongue into her mouth at the same time as I entered her with a single finger.

The cry she let out into my mouth shuddered through me and shocked me to a sudden halt. My eyes snapped open and I searched her face for reassurance.

"You ok?" I whispered.

Her eyes opened and two jewels stared back up at me, black orbs of onyx set in tiny rings of jasper. She nodded slowly.

So I resumed my thrusts deliberately slow. She responded to each cautious push by canting her hips towards me to drive me deeper. If I wasn't going to take her roughly, if I was going painstakingly slow, she needed me deep inside her. My hand anchored at my pelvis, I started up a gentle but steady rhythm.

Emily clung to me as I fucked her and soon I felt her walls clinging to me just as tight. Her muscles straining, fighting to keep me inside. Her nerve endings sending tremors through muscle fibre. My stomach slid slick against hers. My throat felt dry and hoarse as sweat pearled down my back.

I kissed her again, soft and smooth. I lost myself in her pleasure. Sliding in one last time I felt her cunt clench wildly around my fingers as she came.

I let my weight fall on my free arm, my hand still sheathed inside her. We puffed and panted together until it hit me like the most obvious thing in the world.

I hadn't just fucked her; I had made love to her.

And even though I couldn't yet look her in the eye as I said it, I knew I wanted to say it. My head rested on her chest and I could hear her heartbeat directly against my ear. I smiled.

"I love you Emily."

And I knew she was smiling too. I had succeeded in my task. We had chased away thoughts that did us no good. Banished them from the sanctity of the dark room and, in doing so, built an impenetrable stronghold around the bed. My place of refuge had become ours in this simple act of love.

Emily brushed a rebellious strand of hair off my face and released me to roll into her side. I kissed the crook of her neck and she actually giggled.

"You need a haircut, babes." She quipped.

I huffed but I was glad for the levity. "Oy!" I jostled her playfully.

She knew exactly not to make a huge deal about my declaration. The bigness was in the simplicity of the exchange. I guess she knew she needn't say anything, her radiant smile was silent acknowledgement enough. Perhaps she also worried that I might still balk and panic, or question whether I'd really meant it. I could have just said it in the heat of the moment. Or worse still, I could have just been saying it back because she had. But with the way I had taken her just then, in my own bed, my space, there was no mistaking my sincerity.

So we just lay there together in silence for a moment longer until she kissed me on the temple and started to speak again.

"I suppose I owe you a bit of an explanation now." She started.

My eyes fluttered open "Only if you want to."

"It's Katie" she continued in response "She told us what was wrong at her party. Mum was giving her strife for dating Cook, like she always does. She doesn't think Cook is good enough for her first born."

Emily readjusted her arm around my shoulders and turned towards me. The safety net we had created gave her the courage to share what had followed.

"So there's mum, going on about how it was time Katie started to think about her future and how Cook would be no fit father for her grandchildren. For mum 'I only want what's best for you' really means 'whatever helps us keep up with the Joneses.' And you know Katie, she wasn't going to stand for that shit, wouldn't let anyone tell her what to do. But I thought she would just tell mum to shove it up her tits and that would be the end of it."

She bit her lip but pushed on bravely.

"Only then Katie started to cry and dad told mum to lay off but she wouldn't relent. Suddenly, Katie burst into sobs and screamed at mum that she wouldn't have kids... couldn't ever... she has something... 'early menopause' she said."

_Shit. _I pictured the scene. Chairs screeching backwards on a tiled floor, cutlery clattering as it was dropped in shock onto half empty plates. The mighty Katie Fitch with mascara threading down her cheeks, staring down the faceless matriarch.

"Even James knew not to make his usual smutty jokes but I guess mum was too upset to keep her mouth shut. Katie stormed out without finishing her food. So that left mum with a sack to empty and an easy substitute target. She lashed out at me instead. Told me I was an ungrateful cow, choosing to be stubborn and persist with my so called 'lesbian' phase. That I should be ashamed I could even have kids if I was going to throw it away when my sister could not."

There was a sad look in Emily's eyes but the little distance since the events of the evening seemed to keep her together.

"I was horrible Nai. I mean, she's our _mum_! There's something just incredibly... _fucked_ about that right? She should have been there for Katie. And instead she just focussed her energy on misplaced guilt and making me feel even shitter.

And seeing my big sister just... crumble like that... She was the strong one when _I'd_ stormed out years ago, I had to do the same for her but I was still... I _am _still fucking reeling from the information. It's not like having kids is at the forefront of my mind yet, you know, but I suppose that's precisely because it doesn't have to be, at our age. To just have the option snuffed out for you is just fucking unfair!"

I squeezed my girlfriend a little closer but I kept silent.

"I could hear dad calling after me when I slammed the front door shut. I hauled ass to Katie's and found her still clutching the phone in her studio. I know people see her as this power bitch and she's worked hard on that image. It's kinda worked for her mostly. But sometimes I think she's fooled herself in the process too. She's a hard one to comfort too because, unless it's really bad, she'll usually refuse to admit that there's anything wrong.

But tonight she let me talk. We talked it out six ways till Sunday until Cook arrived to take her to bed. The two of them needed to talk too. So I messaged James and called dad to reassure them. And then all I wanted to do was see you."

I pecked her on the cheek and snuggled in. Emily yawned and rolled over. I stroked her shoulder as I spooned her and my eyes struggled to focus on the tattoo under my fingers. The tattoo she said she'd gotten after she'd moved out of home and into Sans Souci. Two twin birds and the smaller one flying the coop. I understood.

When I woke up mid Saturday morning, the bed beside me was empty but I could hear Emily softly singing Cohen's _Tonight Will Be Fine_ downstairs in the kitchen along with the clattering of pots and pans. I smiled to myself as I reached over across the pillow that still held the groove from where her head has rested. My fingers came in contact with a small paper. I turned it over in my hands and blinked away the sleep from my eyes to read it. On the post-it was a short list in Emily's loopy handwriting:

_Naomi's To Do List:_

_- Learn to walk in a 'straight' line  
>- Get a haircut<br>- Tell my mother I love her  
>- Show my girlfriend I love her<br>- Take over the world_

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><p><strong>So there, Naomi is maturing from the canon Naomi. She didn't leave Emily hanging for too long.<strong>

**Unlike my leaving you all hanging between updates. Shameless, unforgivable really.**

**Thanks also to Crevette for her encouraging words in getting this chapter out and for the insightful outside reader's opinion I needed.**

**BE F xx**


	25. Jesse

**So my job has undergone some changes lately and we are now having to compete for projects again which is both a bit scary and a lot exciting. Suffice it to say it's kept my days and some evenings very busy but it's also reaffirmed my passion.**

**The rest of the news most of you following me on twitter already know so, on the whole, yours truly has been a happy little Froggie.**

**In honour of happiness and fun times – our ladies are out for a day of relative frivolity. **

**Disclaimer: Yada yada yada... boilerplate… **

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><p>The last ball ricocheted off the canvas at the back of the stall as it missed the remaining can. Emily stared down the last tin can that stood stubbornly between her and the bright blue ukulele she had been eyeing off over on the prize table.<p>

"Shit a brick!" she muttered under her breath.

The older gent manning the stall reached for the roll of coupons at his belt and tore off a ribbon of three. He shuffled over and handed them to her.

"You've got quite the arm on you there, young missy."

Emily continued to pout.

He smiled indulgently. "Best work on that aim though, eh?"

I looped my arm through hers and walked us off. It wasn't long before we bumped into Cassie. Now when I say "bumped into", that's not just a figure of speech. We quite literally ran into the waifish blonde, a little walk down the green which had been transformed for the day into a small fairground. She came out of nowhere, wandering out from behind a marquee with her hands deep in her pockets and her eyes up in the sky.

"Oh hey" she gave us a great toothy grin as Sid and Tony caught up behind her.

Sid tugged at the hem of his jumper. The garment looked about two sizes too small and rose back around his midriff as soon as he let go. "Did you guys see the juggler, near the kids' tent?"

"Total and utter loser that one," added Tony, "Kids were bored fucking witless."

"You might not have lit your spliff on his torch though." Sid pointed out meekly.

"He was lame; I was bored. He was asking for it, mate." Tony shrugged.

Sid took the joint from Tony and drew a toke "So you put your hand up when he asked for a volunteer and then fucked with his show."

A smirk was Tony's only response.

Cassie placed a slender hand on Sid's and smiled patiently at Tony. "The kids loved it. They loved you Tone. It's like... you're their example. Like cool, you know."

"Thanks Dippy." Said Tony, already stepping backwards, before he turned on his heels and jogged off in the direction of the licensed area.

Cassie swung Sid's hand back and forth in hers, looking at the scene around her in awe. Her eyes looped back to their joined hands and she seemed almost startled, like she hadn't realised they were attached to her own body.

It was Sid who decided to move on. "Ladies" he nodded and tugged gently on her arm, leading her along through the crowds.

We spent the rest of the afternoon strolling through the grounds. The council hadn't bothered to mow the area of Castle Park that was playing host to the fairgrounds so the grass was long and squeaked pleasingly underfoot. The outskirts of the green were lined with marquees, big and small. Most were old-fashioned game stalls with fittingly basic trestle tables, laden with cheap prizes. Designed to attract the ideal kind of player: kids young enough to still find the game appealing and happy enough to keep spending mum and dad's irresponsibly endless supply of pocket money trying to win prizes that would have cost less at your local Asda.

Still, every five or so of these tents, there stood a larger gazebo. Some held dance stages, turn-tables in the corner and mosh areas. Some had slow snaking lines of revellers queuing for overpriced booze. Some were filled with noisy raffle and exhibition stalls, others were just general standing shelters in case the fickle Bristol weather decided to turn on us. One in particular covered a big mess of tables and benches, surrounded with every kind of food stall imaginable. The smell was amazing.

Inside the deceivingly plain white tarp tent, the clamour was deafening. Food orders were repeated over counters and full trays handed over in return. The same trays quickly returned empty only to be piled again with more food and the cycle continued. Children ran between tables, tapping the empty benches to the rhythm of their own made-up games. Conversations all melded into one mighty din. Colourful mobile papier-mâché ornaments balanced from the bare trusses. Indian women in bright saris topped up buffets with more and more appetising cooked goods.

Ems sniffed out the tastiest deal like a bloodhound and we feasted on a buffet of all-you-can-eat curries with fluffy flatbread, mounds of fragrant herbs and rice. Let the record show, my demure redhead can sure put it away! I'm not entirely sure _where_ she put it, but she put the "all you can eat" concept through its paces. I remembered something mum used to say to me as a child about "hollow legs" and smiled to myself as she tucked into her third helping of dhal.

As I chased the last bits of sauce around my plate with naan bread, I saw a hand reach swiftly around me from behind. A second later, a cloud of turbid liquid swirled through my soda cup.

"Should watch your cup around these parts," came Cook's voice as he swung a leg over the bench "just about any miscreant could spike your drink if you're not careful."

"Save you the licensed area nonsense though." Reasoned Freddie with a smile, taking a seat on my other side as Effy and Katie appeared next to Emily.

Cook began to help himself to the food on Emily's plate, much to the displeasure of a few passing wait staff. Em reached for the flask he had deposited on the table and topped up her own cup generously. Effy produced a few more cups which she filled before tucking the flask out of sight under her skirt.

Katie was the first to take a gulp. "Ugh! What in the cock _is_ this stuff Eff?!" She wiped her mouth roughly with the back of her hand.

"JJ's potato moonshine" Freddie answered for her.

"Basically authentic recipe vodka." JJ placed his tray beside Freddie "My dad's creation but I perfected the distillation process. The fermentation of the dextrose still produces the same amount of ethyl alcohol but I distil the liquid at a higher temperature and don't add quite so much water which allows me to maximise the potency. So what you're drinking is 150 proof, which is to say 75 percent alcohol." He finished, as if he had just been explaining all this to his food.

"And 100% free and deadly!" toasted Cook.

Katie raised her eyebrows and took a deep breath before her next sip. "So this..." _gulp "_stuff... is made from potatoes?_" _she asked.

"Yep! Seen it done myself." Emily piped up between mouthfuls.

"Gives meanin' to getting mashed if you ask me." Cook added with a helpful illustrative hand gesture.

We were joined by Lara and Albert not long after and the conversation dissolved into everyone's recounts of their respective discoveries of the day. Before too long night was falling and the tents were lit up. LED rope lighting had been run along the extruded edges and metal framing of each tent, turning them into skeletal outlines of their former selves. The venue was transformed into a field of luminous dotted lines and silhouettes where people meandered between black solids and even blacker empty space.

The air started to smell of smoke long before the bonfire was lit. Our growing group pushed to the front of the crowd just as the western speakers crackled into life. The looming ruin backdrop of St Peter's church suddenly shone with uplights. A set of spots came on along the length of the main hedgerow and a stage was outlined between the ferry landing and water feature. A troupe of dancers in red, yellow and orange ran onto the stage and began to undulate like flames to the music.

The sight was a rush. The dancers seemed to break free from the heavy, grounding bass and transcend their physical limitations. The fluidity of their collective movement was impeccable. They became liquid in the flickering lights.

Without a detectable cue from the music, more performers materialized from the crowd around us. Shrugging off hoodies and long coats to reveal more bright costumes, they sprung up onto the stage to join the melting party. Eventually the mass of bodies split through the centre; three dancers all in white emerged out of nowhere bearing a lit torch.

The music hushed until it was reduced to a single instrument track. A short and sporadic snare drum trill mounted the tension while the flame was passed smoothly from one performer to the other. The other dancers' movements became jagged and mechanical in contrast as they died around the edges of the stage.

Emily's elbow found me square in the ribs. "There he is!" she whispered urgently.

"What? Who?" I puzzled.

At the same moment she answered, I saw the wash of blonde hair of the dancer who had just reclaimed the torch with an elaborate pirouette. Maxxie.

"Beautiful, isn't he?" Said the young man to my left. He wasn't one of us.

The handsome, boyish chap smiled and continued to gaze at the stage as he addressed me. "Enjoying yourselves?"

"Uhm... yeah."

His hair needed a cut; tight ringlets fell around his face in an endearingly dishevelled way, making him look younger than he probably was. Unusually tanned skin highlighted his greyish blue eyes. Though he probably stood about a head taller than me, his long body was swaddled in ill-fitting baggy clothes, giving what must have been a pretty fine body an unfortunate amorphous quality.

When he caught me giving him the once-over he extended his hand towards me, still without taking his eyes off the dancers.

"Jesse." he offered. I heard Emily giggle quietly.

I took his hand and shook it firmly "Naomi." I smiled.

And for the briefest of moments, he looked at me and smiled back. "Really nice to meet you."

He was indeed arrestingly endearing. There was something utterly captivating and charming about the sincerity he conveyed in a single look. Like every encounter was treated with equal enthusiasm as an opportunity for him to broaden his social horizons. I like to think of myself as a good judge of character and a natural warmth just shone straight through this guy. It was what made him rather beautiful. _Nice one Maxxie._

Jesse's eyes were already riveted back on the stage and the drum roll was speeding up. Maxxie had the torch again and was nearing the edge of the stage. A set of the earlier dancers reached for his arms and supported his weight as he leapt clean off the stage and rounded the water feature. He turned the far end of the gulley and began to sprint up the hedgerow. The spotlights along the channel between hedges went dead one by one as he came level with each of them. He was headed for the church. The lit end of the torch bobbed up and down gracefully, charting his quick progress. As the last spot went out, right by the tall entranceway to the church, a solitary spark shot out from the belly of the ruins and burst against the freshly blackened sky.

By the time our eyes adjusted to the darkness and fell back to the ground a great blaze had engulfed a slender pyre inside the abandoned nave of the church. Without a roof to the ruins, the bonfire's flames rose high into the night and backlit the ghostly, towering archways. The building seemed alive with fire and all the while it looked like the fire was consuming it. To our left, the reflection of the controlled inferno shimmered across the water between the few boats of the floating harbour.

Emily's hand crept into mine and we looked on in wonder. Guy Fawkes and his co-conspirators' ambition realised, visually at least, and it was quite spectacular. The council team involved in approving this daring display were to be congratulated.

"The fire trucks are on standby, just around back there." Jesse motioned with a wicked grin "On St Peter's Square. Took some convincing... and a shitpile of paperwork."

It turned out, Jesse's optimistic outlook extended to his professional lot in life too. Not content to kick around with the stale stigma of 'city council employee' on his back, he approached his job as a challenge. Looking at every proposal as a chance to raise the profile of city events, not to make a name for himself or for professional advancement but, in his own words: "to get Bristol the kind of events I actually want to go see myself."

Maxxie appeared while we were still chatting with Jesse. He slung his toned arms around the taller boy's shoulders. Jesse grinned and congratulated the blonde warmly but his arms stayed glued to his sides. Hands still in his grubby jeans' pockets he nodded towards the bandstand and we followed his lead. We made our way up the steps of the dim structure, Emily and I bringing up the rear.

Suddenly, Effy rounded on me, tugging on my arm as I heard Panda's voice ring out clear as a bell.

"Oh hi, Mrs Naomi's mum! You're like the coolest mum ever, totally super-duper. My mum would totally flip and go ra-ra if she saw me doing that with a boy."

My feet froze on the spot and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust. I caught sight of my mother just as Kieran's hand was pulled so hastily out of her hideous blouse that it hit one of the bandstand's steel pillars with a loud clang and a yelp.

_Ladies and gentlemen, I give you... my mother – in one word: mortifying._

I climbed the remaining steps and fronted up to the sheepish pair "Jesus mum! Don't you have any inhibitions left?"

"Not really, no." Kieran supplied helpfully. Mum's fist landed very deliberately on the hand he was cradling after the impact with the pole. He let out another indignant yelp.

Pandora was still wearing a broad grin "I think it's whizzer! Perfect way for Emily to meet her new parents in love."

"You mean to say 'parents in law'?" Thomas quizzed.

Panda rolled her eyes. "No silly, 'parents in _love_' cos the law doesn't recognise them here, innit. But 'love' is way better than the law anyway."

The gang erupted in peals of laughter and Tony stepped forward to slap Panda on the back. "I like you Popsicle. I can see why Effy hangs with you."

In the face of such genuine poetry from Panda, I completely lost my train of thought which was previously barrelling full steam towards my mother for yet another appalling exhibition. I shrugged and threw my hands in the air.

"Mum, Emily. Emily, the embarrassing loin of my fruits." I gestured.

Mum shot up and hugged Emily. I could tell by the wild frenetic look she gave me over Ems' shoulder that she was bursting at the seams trying to control herself from embarrassing me further but there was an effusive tirade just brimming beneath the surface.

"Wonderful to meet you Emily." Were the words she chose. "You must be incredibly patient or a wise woman indeed to see the kernel inside this one."

_Alright mum, well played._

Emily sized her up immediately and didn't even hesitate "It's lovely to meet you too Gina." She smiled as she was released.

A lesser person could have fawned or fumbled over such a 'meet the parents' situation, but Emily went straight to the first name basis as if it was obvious upon first encounter. She didn't need to be told that Gina would respond to familiarity and confidence. From the little I had told her about my mother – and I realised now that she'd successfully transcribed a lot of it from my negatively biased and probably rather unfair portraits – she'd worked out exactly how to play her. No formalities, no insincere fanfare; Emily, pure and simple. Gina was putty in her hands.

Mum pursed her lips and nodded her approval while Kieran and Emily hugged slightly more awkwardly. "Well then we'll be off won't we Kieran? Let these fine young people have their fun without us 'geriatrics' cramping their style." She affected air-quotes to highlight her self-deprecating chosen title.

Kieran shuffled off in her wake. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do, eh kids." He offered as a parting shot.

"That leaves the field gaping open." Said Chris taking a seat on the bench.

"_Gina_ eh?" I teased Emily as we balanced side by side on the railing.

She shoved me playfully "I figured I'd dispense with the formalities after _that_ meeting."

I parried and regained my balance on my perch. "She's embarrassing."

"She's refreshing."

"She's overbearing."

"She loves you."

"She has a funny way of showing it."

"Let's not play the mum competition now, shall we?" Emily's foot nudged mine gently and I fell silent.

They were packing up the smaller tents and hauling the equipment and unclaimed prizes away around us. The dance stages were in full swing, their respective waves of music competing for decibels as they reached us. Cassie stood in the centre of the bandstand and raised her arms around her, twirling to the sound of the general cacophony. Effy reached for her flask and took a swig, stepped across the crowd and held her hand out to Katie.

The older Fitch sister had been staring at her shoes. She looked up at Effy's hand, then at her face. Effy offered her a shrug. Katie took her hand a little uncertainly but allowed herself to be led over to where Cassie stood. Eff took a small bow and Katie curtsied. The moonshine soaked waltz that followed hypnotized the rest of us into quiet submission.

Freddie, Chris, Sid and Tony started up another spliff in a corner and the heady smell of weed wafted over in drags. JJ returned from exploring the rubble of Bristol Castle with a sleepy Albert balanced precariously on his back. Lara made their quiet goodbyes and the three of them beat a huddled retreat along Queen Street.

I watched discretely as Maxxie dropped a pill on Jesse's tongue. Jesse let out an intoxicated giggle that remained mute, drowned out by the surrounding noise.

Cook was busy hoisting himself over the gutter line of the structure until even his legs disappeared onto the tin roof above us. Our unlikely sentinel was neither seen nor heard for the rest of the night.

I was watching the gang's goings on and beginning to relax when I felt Emily's hand creep timidly across my lap. She collected my hand and turned it palm side up, prizing my fingers open one by one. Her other hand delved deep into her jacket's oversized pocket and pulled out something red.

Placing the soft creature in my hand she leaned across and grazed my cheek with her lips. A flutter built up in my stomach at the simple sensation. I looked down at my hand.

It was a small stuffed toy, a lobster. And I was sure I'd seen it before. I wracked my brains for the memory of where I had spotted it earlier until it came back to me through the drunken haze. It had been sitting right behind the blue ukulele on that prize table. When I looked back at the face of my girlfriend she was smirking sweetly.

I didn't know what to do first: laugh or kiss her senseless.

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><p><strong>So our main protagonists being themselves and some other characters' introduction. A nod to my mate Jesse who is the loose inspiration for the eponymous charmer in this chapter, I repeat: loose…<strong>

**Thanks for reading. Into thicker, choppier waters next time.**

**BE F xx**


	26. Mother and Daughter

**For anybody wondering what it's like to live in fanfiction? It's bliss! But it's also – naturally – full of real life; work commutes, the odd rainstorm and regular laundry. And I love it just the same... ;-)**

**Disclaimer: I **_**do**_** own Skins, it's a part of me, I just don't have any legal or financial claims to it.**

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><p>"Come on lazy-bones!" came mum's voice for the third time that morning. "I'm not going to let you waste another hour of Naomi-Day."<p>

I was starting to regret giving my mother a key to my place in return for her help with the loan deposit. A sudden rush of cold air licked at my feet as the blanket was unceremoniously dragged away from my legs. I let out a petulant grumble but I knew it was futile in the long run.

"Up, up, up! There's tattie scones downstairs and Thomas has already tucked in. Better get up before he eats them all, birthday or no birthday missy."

"Thomas wouldn't do that to me." I protested, rolling onto my back and rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

Still I could smell the food through the open door of my bedroom and I wasn't about to test that theory. With great effort, I forced my eyelids open to see Gina standing in the doorway with her not-to-be-deterred 'game face' on. I knew that face very well. I'd known it since I was a child. It was a mix of slightly manic excitement, dogged enthusiasm and stubborn determination and it meant: _We are going to have fun if it sodding kills us_. She wore it only for me over the years. Although I've been given to understand that Kieran has been on the receiving end of it more since they had become a steady item. He'd since come to me for tips on how to deal with this facet of my mother. I had told him to cut his losses and just go with the flow; there was no other option when she got like this.

I swung my legs around and my feet found the cold floor. Realising that the hem of my nightshirt barely covered my bum, I tugged at it with one hand and ran the other through my hair.

Mum huffed and shook her head, looking amused. "Oh, don't be a bloody prude on my account Naomi. I hate to break it to you hun but I've seen your fanny more often than Emily probably has so far."

"Boundaries, mum! Jesus!" I yelled.

"Just saying, darling... I'm glad to see you've relaxed your sleeping getup, mind. Emily must be a good influence on you. There was a time I thought you'd never be caught dead sleeping in anything less than a full kit, that's all I'm saying." she shrugged. "Now come downstairs before breakfast gets cold at least."

When I'd found shorts and emerged to meet the others I found Thomas grinning at me over a plate of corn fritters and tofu scramble. Kieran was picking potato scone crumbs out of his beard while mum manned the griddle.

"Eat up girlie." Said Kieran, motioning at a plate which had already been piled with food at the head of the table. "Big day of walking ahead of us."

He needn't have reminded me. I would have been all too happy to have a quiet day at home on my birthday. Mostly, if the day went completely unacknowledged, it would be no skin off my nose.

It wasn't so much the walking that I objected to, nor was it Gina's choice of noble cause. I'd gotten used to my darling mother's concept of mother-daughter bonding activities over 24 years of being stuck with her. Gina had taken on her mission of child-rearing as her very own duty to create the most devoted mini-activist she possibly could. Some might say she'd done pretty damn well, all things considered. In truth I'd grown to find it endearing and I found it a small price to pay her back for being 'genetically indebted to her' as she put it.

It was more the fact that she regarded us going to this rally as some kind of birthday treat. Not just for me but for any of my friends who might have wanted to spend the day with me. Thankfully, as _Number One Acquired Congolese Son _Thomas was used to this quirk of hers too. In fact, he obliged it with such seamless enthusiasm that I had to remind myself to berate him later for encouraging the woman too much.

More embarrassing though was the fact that this year I had to come to terms with my recent girlfriend being added to Gina's recruits. So I filled up on my mother's hearty vegan-fuel and braced myself for the day to come.

We were planning to meet up with Emily at the North corner of College Green, ready to set off with the rest of the rally from the City Council chambers. When we arrived, the crowds were already gathering on the lawn. Home-made banners rolled up by their feet, megaphones and placards leant up against nearby walls, the marchers assembled for instructions. A growing number of willing and eager protesters paced around the stiff ground, kicking and scuffing about at the frozen blades of grass to keep themselves warm. A majority of women had dogs on leashes or carried snugly wrapped toddlers still half asleep on their hips. Newcomers joined the ranks and mingled with the early morning arrivals, exchanging tired smiles and shedding rucksacks off sloping shoulders. A few rummaged around for extra gloves, cameras or phones to document the event in the hopes of reaching still more people by spreading the word early through social media.

All this gang of straggly but well-meaning foot-soldiers needed was one element of order and authority, a single voice to rally them into action. They were just awaiting the signal to give them purpose and stir the force within them that was begging to be heard.

We found Emily emerging from the small cafe off the green, blowing across the lid of the takeaway coffee she cradled in both hands. Wisps of condensation came off her bio cup as she ambled towards us. A green chullo hat swaddled her head and ears, covering her bright hair except for the tips which could just be seen pushing out under the woollen tassels of her earflaps. I was on the verge of melting in the surge of warmth and affection that hit me in middle of the cold morning when a commanding voice rose over the crowd.

The quiet murmur of hundreds of people idly chatting away died off in an instant. The spokesperson for the joint unions stood on a small raised platform and welcomed the gathered troops. After a short introductory speech, she gave out our marching orders to a hushed and attentive audience. Emily nodded in greeting to Thomas, mum and Kieran as she drew nearer and her hand crept into mine. She stood beside me while the woman on the dais continued. My girlfriend then proceeded to discretely lean across and take advantage of our height difference to kiss the side of my exposed neck. She lingered a little longer to whisper "happy birthday" into my ear in lieu of a 'hello.' For the second time in as many minutes, a welcome rush of warm blood flooded to my blushing cheeks.

When the speaker finished, the crowd seemed to stir into life again. Various union officers milled about more purposefully, calling their members and followers into groups and setting off down the cordoned off section of Park street.

We picked up Gina's hand painted _Defend our NHS_ and _Public service, not private profit_ signs and hit the road hand in hand behind a bunch of UNISON marchers. Our multi-legged organism gathered numbers as we weaved through the university and crawled up Tyndall avenue. We were near a thousand strong and loud by the time we reached our first stop at St Michael's hospital.

Once the last stragglers had caught up with us there, a team of obstetrics nurses and midwives were given the stage. As they vociferously bemoaned the effect of the threatening cuts and the introduction of regional pay on the maternity wards of Bristol's hospitals Emily pulled out her phone and snapped a few photos of the most passionate speakers.

The crowds lagged a little in getting back into the procession. During this time Em dragged Thomas into her other side with her free arm and stuffed her hat into her coat pocket. The three of us huddled behind the _NHS – No cuts! _banner and Kieran took a picture of our three heads bobbing at eye level behind the lettering.

"That's the one we want!" giggled Emily as she uploaded it to twitter with the hashtags #NHSkids and #unitedcoloursofNHS.

I peered at the brown, red and blonde crowns peeking mischievously over the banner. You had to smile at the genius of her spontaneous pop-slogan. The tweet got a few instant favourites and by the time we were moving again Emily's phone went off once more in her pocket.

_Where are you lezzer? xx – _ It was Katie.

Emily requisitioned her left hand from me long enough to fire back.

_NHS Rally, slag of my heart. :-)_

_Top of Marlborough Hill, heading towards_

_the Hospital Broadcasting Service._

_Join us? _

We started to snake down Marlborough.

_U kidding?! It's monkeys outside! – _Katie replied.

Emily shrugged and tried a different tack:

_It's Naomi's birthday, Katie._

_Drinks afterwards.._

_Interesting choice of argument, _I thought. But soon enough the phone chirped again.

_Ok, gimme 20._

Then another,

_But there better be_

_more than just beers, yeah._

"Katie is coming?" said Thomas cheerfully when Emily passed the word around "That is good; I like Katie."

"I hope that's ok Naoms," Emily said quietly just to me while she pocketed her phone, "We're at least going to a pub after this to warm up and celebrate."

I generally don't like to make a big fuss out of anything so when it came to making an event of my own birthday I was not overly convinced. I sighed and nodded at the redhead's beseeching smile. I could accept this on the grounds of the 'warming us up' argument she'd conveniently offered up. Besides, drinks at the pub was hardly a big fanfare.

We settled on the Stag and Hounds near the Tower Hill corner of Castle Park, which was where the final rally and speeches were being held after the march. Thomas texted Pandora the time and place.

We soldiered on in the direction of the Broadcasting Service where the next speeches would be made live to air. We were just rounding the Bristol Infirmary next door when my own phone went off. _Jesus, it's non- stop today. _I caught myself thinking. It was Effy.

_What's this I hear_

_about drinks for your b'day?_

_I thought I wasn't even allowed_

_to acknowledge the day_

_on pain of death._

_Ugh, _I rolled my eyes and shook my inanimate phone in my fist.

_Don't blame me._

_It was Emily's idea._

_Who told you anyway?_

Barely a beat went by.

_Course it was Emily's idea._

_I figured that out when_

_Katie messaged me._

I blinked in shock. _The fuck!? _Today's coming of age was turning into a rather surreal experience.

Well, assuming Katie and Eff would bring along their respective boyfriends, that was Freddie and Cook accounted for. I turned to Emily again:

"Why don't you invite JJ too. Might as well get the complete un-holy trinity now." I declared with a resigned smile.

Katie and the rest of the conscripts caught up with us on Union Street. We all followed the waving flags and cacophony of whistles and chants through Castle Park. Nobody's voice was quite as loud as our Gina's naturally.

Shoppers and office workers on their lunch break stopped in their tracks to watch this outrageous-looking woman, braving fashion sense and age-appropriateness and combining her sheer lack of both into what turned out to be the most absurdly wonderful outfit on the streets of Bristol that day. She marched proudly, exuding passion and commitment from the top of her dreadlocked head to the sturdy soles of her bright yellow Doc Martens. The chants were generally the same up and down the march but she bore this no mind. Preferring instead to make up her own elaborate slogans, shouting them enthusiastically over the top of the crowd's three word chants. By virtue of this mini rebellion of course, hers was the most compelling and rousing chant there was. My mother had always turned heads.

We arrived at the rally itself at just after half twelve. The final four speakers met us by the Headquarters of the Avon Ambulance Service NHS Trust for the last leg.

Two union officers, an ambulance driver and a pediatric nurse took turns at the mic delivering well thought out critiques of the Trust Pay Consortium – or should we say _cartel_ – and its likely outcomes. One serious and busy-looking woman in a slightly wrinkly pantsuit quoted ugly numbers and figures at us, while the crowd roared back in anguish. Another spoke of "Orwellian proposals" and a "race to the bottom." He suggested the "people in the think tanks which conjured up the proposals should come and live with the reality of the cuts" which was met with more shouts of agreement.

The final speaker was more emotive about his and his colleagues' insecurities regarding their future. While he voiced his concerns and struggled to contain his fears, I sensed my mother's anger rising beside me. She had only spent a short stint working in the health care system, when she'd come back from India the second time, so our presence here was more in defense of the downtrodden. Not to mention the snowball effects on the general population in patient care.

When mum had given birth to me, she'd had the 'shitty little prick' whose DNA I shared to support her through the ordeal. But by the time I was through my 'terrible twos' and catching every contagious bug that was going round the school, he had shot through. When I needed my shots for the measles updated, my stitches or casts removed, it was just mum and me. When was kept home sick waiting out my chicken pox or nursing a swollen jaw from my wisdom teeth extraction, mum very much had to depend on the kindness of strangers. She had always and ever since extolled the virtues of the health workers who helped us through that shit. The extra assistance, good will and compassion she got from them never came with an unwelcome side-order of judgment or pity for the single mother.

So it was as a mother and daughter that we were attending this thing. We were there in thanks for the people whose faces we'd long forgotten but whose actions had stayed with us until now.

After the first officer returned and thanked the crowds for braving the cold, the groups began to scatter. Clusters broke off, disappearing into the web of grey streets that fanned out around the park. I spotted various members of the press stopping the odd protester to collect their comments and impressions after the event. Mum had seen this too.

"Don't wait for us darling," she said with her hand on my arm "you go and have fun with your friends. I have important shit to say, shit that needs to be heard."

She strode off, with a determined gait and a docile Kieran in tow, towards the most compliant looking journo with a camera. It took her all of 10 seconds to commandeer his attention and she was speaking her peace into the lens within 30.

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><p><strong>BE F xx<strong>


	27. Alice and Friends

"**Do you think I've gone round the bend?"  
>"I'm afraid so. You're mad, bonkers, completely off your head. But I'll tell you a secret. All the best people are."<br>― Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland**

**A warning: this is Skins 'through the looking glass'. It gets self-indulgent but if you're patient you'll find the plot. And as a reward when you get to the end, I promise to return to simpler prose next chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Skins nor the works of Lewis Carroll.**

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><p>T'was vespers ringing when she came<br>And past the threshold, swish,  
>she swanned,<br>Flanked left and right with helpers three.  
>One gruff spud-lover with a dish,<br>Then boy and girl with garlands bright  
>Bestow the wish I ne'er required:<br>A grand affair for friends and all.  
>Still grant the woman be admired,<p>

For with no fund or wherewithal,  
>By yonder morrow's twilight, see,<br>To small salon in Bristol town  
>She'd summoned trees and shrubbery<br>And cups and cakes and silver spoons,  
>More clocks and cards and decors grand,<br>Some smoking pipes and toadstool 'shrooms;  
>Hast conjured up a Wonderland.<p>

With Cheshire grin she stood and sighed,  
>Beheld the scene we'd spun to life,<br>Buoyed with success and stirred with pride,  
>For the abode was rich and rife.<br>And so when came, crepuscular  
>Guests one by one, a mighty crowd<br>To fit such small and heaving space;  
>Result grew fast and strong and loud.<p>

First through the door, a feline girl  
>With whiskers black and smirk so wide,<br>Deep, knowing eyes and shrewd of ken,  
>A Cheshire Stonem took her stride.<br>Escorting her like human prize,  
>A bug-eyed boy, Freds hopped along<br>In sleeping bag to nearest pew  
>And quickly settled with his bong.<p>

When cat and caterpillar both  
>Had found a cosy place to dwell,<br>A rabbit came a'skipping in;  
>All dressed in white with cotton tail<br>Soft rich red locks and ruby cheeks,  
>The sweetest bunny barring none.<br>Her smile so bright and mischievous  
>Made mine still brighter than the sun.<p>

Her pocket watch did mark the time  
>The next few callers had arrived:<br>A red and crimson Queen of Hearts  
>Her fashion bold but not contrived.<br>She used to rule 'ver Bristol's tarts,  
>But now she'd chose her loyal knave<br>Mad hatter - come twatter - our Cook,  
>To his lady fervent and brave.<p>

With hat on crown and cock, he roared  
>And ushered still more rev'lers in.<br>Young Tweedles Dee and Dum, the boys  
>Whose sartorial effort was thin.<br>In overalls, James Fitch and friend  
>Looked set to hit on every skirt;<br>But no fair lady paid them heed,  
>Though that did not dissuade the flirts.<p>

A pastel Panda 'Eat Me' cake  
>And boyfriend dark with 'Drink Me' scroll,<br>Galumphing down the stairs they came,  
>To greet this Alice on a roll<br>With choking hug and squeal so shrill.  
>The tiny tea mouse, "Wow" she cried,<br>When pushing through the heavy door,  
>On decor feast'd with hungry eyes.<p>

Escorted by her date and friends:  
>Mock Turtle boy with cardboard shell,<br>A small March hare with curly hair,  
>His lady and her boy as well,<br>Both dressed as cards - she cradled him  
>And soon to sleep, he hardly stirred -<br>Then avian pair, flamingo Chris  
>With Jal, his joyful Jubjub bird.<p>

When all had come to celebrate  
>This happy and momentous date,<br>The oldest man, he raised his cup  
>And cleared his throat to shut them up.<p>

'Hark!'

Cough... "Feck... Is this thing on?" said he  
>Though beard and Irish brogue<br>"I guess I'd better start with thanks  
>For coming" beamed the rogue.<p>

"You all know missy here quite well  
>And if she'd had her way,<br>There'd be no grand occasion now  
>To celebrate this day.<p>

But thanks to stubborn Gina here,  
>We've boundless booze and cause<br>For fun and mischief fit to mark  
>This birthday with applause<p>

So credit go where it is due,  
>Then go and fill your glass<br>To toast Naomi well and plenty,  
>'til you're on your arse<p>

For if my calculation's right  
>And memory predicts:<br>Naomi here turns twenty five,  
>Going on fifty six!"<p>

With rapturous and raucous cheers,  
>The gathered masses hugged the host.<br>They tipped their wines and spilled their beers,  
>Such was their eagerness to toast.<br>This blue eyed blonde had to concede  
>Her stubborn mother had been right;<br>That through our haze of gin and weed,  
>It had become a pleasant night.<p>

A three tiered cake was carried in,  
>The Stonem girl then took the fore,<br>Removed the top with wicked grin,  
>Revealing pills and drugs galore!<br>"Off with her head!" pointing at me,  
>She winked, downing a pill herself;<br>Within the hour I'd taken three  
>Well off my head, leaned 'gainst a shelf…<p>

The fun thus chemically enhanced,  
>Well into early hours of morn'<br>We fucked about and sang and danced,  
>'til one and all's endurance worn.<br>When all were wilting, girls and guys,  
>They picked their spots upon the floor,<br>To rest their heads and close their eyes  
>While others left in hours before.<p>

This Alice, in her pinafore,  
>Pulled tired Emsy to her feet<br>And led her, hush, through bedroom door  
>To claim my actual birthday treat,<br>For truth be told and in the end,  
>Though I had truly had a ball,<br>To lie curled up with my girlfriend  
>Remained my favourite gift of all.<p>

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><p><strong>So... did you get through it? Bit of a brainful? Or a bit of fun?<br>****Click the button below to leave your comments or abuse ;)****  
><strong>

**Froggie**


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